SLI3.1 


RULES  OF  THE 

HARRIS  RIBRARY. 

Article  1.  The  Library  shall  be  open  for  the  de- 
livery and  return  of  books,  on  VVedn’esday  and  Satur- 
day afternoon  and  evening  of  each  week. 

Akt.  2.  No  person  shall  be  allowed  more  than  two 
volumes  at  one  time;  and  no  book  shall  be  kept  out  of 
the  Library  more  than  four  weeks. 

Art.  3.  Persons  keeping  books  longer  than  four 
weeks,  shall  pay  for  each  week  or  fractional  part  of 
a week,  ten  cents. 

Art.  4.  No  books  shall  be  lent  outside  of  the  family 
of  the  person  taking  them,  nor  shall  any  books  be 
carried  outside  of  this  town,  under  a jienalty  of  twenty- 
five  cents  in  either  case. 

Art.  5 Minors  and  irresponsible  persons  shall  have 
the  same  access  to  the  Library  as  others,  by  producing 
a certificate  from  the  parent,  guardian  or  some  re- 
sponsibie  person,  assuming  responsibility  for  the  ob- 
servance of  the  rules  of  the  Library,  by  such  minor 
or  person. 

Art.  6.  If  any  book  shall  be  lost  or  damaged  beyond 
the  necessary  wear,  the  person  to  whom  it  stands 
charged  shall  replace  it  within  thirty  days,  or  pay  such 
sum  as  shall  be  judged  an  equivalent  by  the  Executive 
Committee. 

Art  I.  No  person  owing  a fine  or  forfeiture  shall 
receive  books  from  the  I.ibrary  till  the  same  is  paid. 

Art.  8 Books  of  reference  and  those  deemed  un- 
suitable for  general  circulation,  shall  not  be  loaned. 


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SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME 


BY 

JESSIE  BENTON  FREMONT 

Author  of  “The  Story  of  the  Guard,”  Etc. 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


30ST0N 

D.  LOTIIROP  AND  COMPANY 

FRANKLIN  AND  HAWLEY  STREETS 


Copyright,  18S7, 
by 

D.  Lothrop  & Company. 


THE  FLOWERS  COLLECTION 


7.  3 

P 9 7 2, 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Mrs.  Jessie  Benton  Fremont  . 

• 

Frontis. 

The  Wedding  Ceremony  . 

17 

The  Hostess  assures  the  English  Officers 

53 

General  Jackson 

• • 

91 

Senator  Benton  .... 

• • 

• 

. lOI 

General  John  C.  Fremont  . 

• • 

• 

iSS 

Tomb  of  Napoleon  . . . 

• • 

• 

. 316 

Louisa,  Queen  of  Denmark 

• • 

• 

• 344 

Elizabeth,  Empress  of  Austria  . 

• • 

• 

• 373 

I Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
■ in  2017  with  funding  from 
Duke  University  Libraries 


https://archive.org/details/souvenirsofmytim01frem 


CONTENTS, 


Chap.  Page. 


I. 

The  Bodisco  Wedding 

• 

7 

II. 

A Virginia  Wedding  . 

• 

34 

III. 

Washington  in  Past  Days 

• 

57 

IV. 

A Royal  Visitor 

68 

V. 

Baron  von  Gerolt 

78 

VI. 

Family  Life  of  the  White  House 

88 

VII. 

Mrs.  Madison  and  Mrs.  Hamilton 

1 08 

VIII. 

The  Talent  in  the  Napkin 

• 

I2I 

IX. 

“ Westward,”  Home  . 

• 

• 

130 

X. 

Saint  Louis  .... 

• 

• 

• 

142 

XI. 

Saint  Louis  [/continued)  . 

• 

• 

161 

XII. 

New  Orleans  — Panama  . 

• 

• 

• 

178 

XIII. 

California  .... 

• 

« 

• 

189 

XIV. 

A Queen’s  “ Drawing  Room.” 

209 

XV. 

Queen  Marie-Amelie 

229 

XVI. 

The  Queen  and  the  Peasant 

240 

XVII. 

A Military  Fete  Day  in  Paris 

253 

XVIII. 

A Nobleman  of  the  Old  Regime 

271 

XIX. 

Paris 

288 

XX. 

Men,  Women  and  Things  . 

. 

303 

XXL 

American  Midshipmen  in  Paris 

316 

XXII. 

The  Little  Princess  Thyra 

329 

XXIII. 

A Morning  Visit  to  the  Queen  of  Den- 

MARK  .... 

344 

A Midsumu£&  Nicht  with  Shakespeare  358 
Salzburg 373 


9 ^ 9 r-,  >7  p; 

ty  ,W  \j  B 


XXIV. 

XXV. 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


{American.) 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  BODISCO  WEDDING. 

OREIGNERS  were  very  “ foreign  ” before 


steam  made  ocean  travel  swift  and  common, 
and  the  foreigners  of  the  Diplomatic  Corps  at  that 
date  were  necessarily  a more  characteristic  body 
than  now,  when  the  ceaseless  interchange  of  mod- 
ern life  has  modified  and  levelled  differences  of  all 


kinds. 


Then  too,  those  same  obstacles  of  travel  made 
it  necessary  to  have  men  here  who  could  settle  a 
question  before  it  should  take  bad  proportions ; 
now  it  is  but  a day’s  work  to  have  questions  an- 
swered by  home  governments.  Sidney  Smith  said 
no  feud  could  withstand  social  intercourse  — no 


7 


8 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


feud  can  grow  with  the  rapid  intercourse  kept  up 
by  the  ocean  telegraph. 

But  with  the  disadvantages  of  those  days  disap- 
pear also  much  that  was  large  — pompous  perhaps 
— but  with  its  own  stamp  of  importance  and  orig- 
inality. 

Russia  has  invariably  been  friendly  to  us.  Far 
back,  when  we  were  just  entering  the  society  of  na- 
tions, it  was  an  ordeal  to  go  as  Minister  represent- 
ing not  only  a new  and  unknown  Power,  but  one  in 
the  dreaded  form  of  a Republic.. 

Franklin  had  the  only  good  post,  that  to  Paris, 
where  the  local  and  growing  political  feeling  made 
a welcoming  party  for  him. 

Quite  the  most  trying  was  that  to  England,  and 
this  had  been  given  to  Mr.  Monroe.  A stoiy  of  his 
early  troubles  comes  back  to  me  as  I write  of  Rus- 
sian ministers. 

At  the  first  state  dinner  to  which  he  was  asked 
Mr.  Monroe  found  himself  seated  at  the  foot  of  the 
table  between  two  representatives  from  German 
principalities. 

“James  Monroe  doesn’t  care  where  he  eats  his 


THE  BODISCO  WEDDING. 


9 


dinner,”  he  said,  “ but  to  find  the  American 
Minister  put  at  the  bottom  of  the  table  between 
two  little  principalities,  no  bigger  than  my  farm 
in  Albermarle,  made  me  mad.”  So  angiy*,  that 
when  the  first  toast  “The  King  ” was  given,  and 
all  rose  to  drink  it,  Mr.  Monroe  in  re-seating  him- 
self put  his  wine-glass  down  into  the  finger-glass  — 
splashing  the  water. 

This  made  his  German  neighbors  exchange  sar- 
castic smiles,  and  he  was  rapidly  getting  too  angry 
when  the  Russian  Minister  who  w'as  at  the  right 
hand  of  the  presiding  Minister  of  State,  rose  and 
offered  his  toast : — 

A health  and  welcome  to  our  latest-comer,  the 
President  of  the  United  States,  General 
Washington.” 

“ Then  I saw  clear  again,”  said  Mr.  Monroe. 
“ And  when  my  country  and  Washington  had  been 
honored  I rose,  and  thanked  the  Russian  Minister 
and  offered  as  mine  — 

“ The  health  and  prosperity  of  our  friend,  the  Em- 
peror OF  Russia.” 

Whether  the  practised  diplomat  had  seen  the 


lO 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


splash  in  the  finger-glass  and  the  sneers  of  the  Ger- 
man ministers,  or  whether  it  was  part  diplomacy 
and  part  courtes}',  the  effect  w'as,  at  once,  to  secure 
proper  consideration  for  the  Minister  from  Amer- 
ica. Points  of  social  obser\^ance  are  founded  on 
meaning,  and  this  timely  graciousness  notified  “ all 
concerned”  that  the  United  States  of  America  had 
an  existence  which  could  not  be  ignored.  We  are 
too  powerful  now  for  such  remembrances  to  have 
other  effect  than  that  of  keeping  our  memor)’  green 
as  to  who  were  friends  when  friends  were  needed. 

The  Russian  minister  of  my  young  days  was 
known  to  every  one,  and  always  made  a sort  of 
royal  progress  of  his  daily  drive  to  the  Capitol 
from  his  residence  in  Georgetown.  His  horses 
were  not  fine  perhaps,  but  there  were  always  four  of 
them  to  the  snowy  barouche  in  which  he  sat,  bare- 
headed half  the  time  from  the  incessant  returning 
of  bows.  He  was  a popular  man  with  all  classes, 
for  he  was  intelligent  — really  amiable  and  prefer- 
ring to  give  pleasure  — and  he  was  said  to  be  rich 
and  was  certainly  “ showy  ” ; a^Hully  so  we  would 
think  to<iay,  when  no  man  could  go  about  his  daily 


THE  BODISCO  WEDDING.  II 

business  with  that  glitter  of  varnish  and  brasses  and 
those  four  prancing  long-tailed  black  horses  with- 
out a cry  of  “ circus  ” following  him.  But  only  a 
few  smiled  over  it  then. 

He  had  found  in  Georgetown  a house  large 
enough  to  suit  him  and  made  it  as  showy  as  his 
other  belongings,  and  his  numerous  entertainments 
were  the  pleasure  and  talk  of  the  time. 

At  Christmas  he  gave  one  for  children.  His  two 
very  young  nephews  being  the  pretext  for  a fete 
none  of  us  had  ever  seen  the  like  of. 

It  was  a snowy  night,  and  as  there  was  no  gas 
then,  the  approach  up  the  hill  was  marked  out  by 
beacon  lights  flaring  in  the  stormy  wind.  All  the 
house  was  illuminated,  and  an  empty  square  in  front 
had  great  fires  burning,  for  the  coachmen  to  go  to, 
as  in  St.  Petersburg ; and  a strong  temporary  room 
of  wood  and  glass,  brightly  lit  and  carpeted,  had 
been  built  out  to  cover  sidewalk  and  entrance  and 
atone  for  our  wretched  out-door  system  of  entrances. 

Once  within,  fairyland  began.  The  flowers  and 
lights  and  pretty  refreshments  we  knew,  but  this 
great  double  house,  opened  to  the  third  floor,  with 


12 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


everywhere  everything  children  little  and  big  could 
fancy ! — this  we  did  not  know. 

The  galleries  had  been  permanently  enclosed, 
curtained,  mirrored,  carpeted  and  pictured.  Now 
in  two  of  them  were  wonderful  red  and  gold  swings. 
Tables  were  covered  with  toys,  games,  picture  books 
and  stacks  of  little  satin  bags  with  “ Bon-Bons  ” in 
gilt  letters.  And  these  were  for  us  to  take  home. 

Dolls  too ! 

And  in  the  dressing-room  whole  boxes  of  little 
white  kid  gloves  and  pretty  fans  and  bolts  and 
bolts  of  all  colors  of  light  ribbons,  and  such  pictur- 
esquely dressed  maids  to  repair  any  damages  to 
our  hair  or  dresses.  We  danced  too  — but  that 
we  did  not  care  for  — dancing  was  only  lessons; 
but  this  world  of  toys  and  sweets  and  pleasant 
faces  was  the  real  joy. 

Fancy  the  stir  when  it  was  known  that  this  daz- 
zling personage  was  to  marry  the  very  young  daugh- 
ter of  very  quiet  people  in  Georgetown. 

In  our  small  world  of  the  school  at  which  I was 
for  two  3’ears  in  Georgetown  this  young  girl  had 
also  made  a commotion. 


THE  BODISCO  WEDDING. 


13 


The  principal,  Miss  English,  a most  cultivated 
lady  of  Danish  family,  had  a stalf  of  twenty-five 
teachers  — each  unusually  well  qualified  for  her 
department;  and  she  had  much  pride  in  the  at- 
tainments of  her  scholars,  who  were  daughtei's  of 
important  Southern  families,  of  members  of  the 
Government  and  Senators  and  members  of  Con- 
gress and  army  and  navy  families.  Many  a woman 
who  has  since  had  part  in  large  events  owes  much 
to  this  dignified  upper-class  school  and  the  ladies 
who  so  fitly  presided  over  it. 

On  the  heights  of  Georgetown  were  still  the  fine 
gardens  and  homes  of  old  families  who  were  very 
nice  to  us  — the  boarders  — and  gave  us  straw- 
berry parties  and  rose  parties  and  had  pleasure  in 
treating  us  on  our  future  footing  of  society  equals. 
Eleonora  Calvert  — Georgia  Washington  — Mil- 
dred Fitzhugh — many  Southern  names  of  our 
history,  past,  and  now,  were  on  the  roll  of  an  aver- 
age of  a hundred  boarders  and  as  many  day-schol- 
ars, and  “ family  ” and  “ fine  manners  ” as  well  as 
study  were  important. 

I am  afraid  I did  not  study  much.  Mere  book- 


14 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


instruction  was  flat  and  unprofitable  to  me  after  my 
delightful  home-teaching.  A congenial  spirit  used 
to  join  me  in  escaping  recitations  by  taking  refuge 
in  the  leafy  top  of  a mulberry-tree  where  she  told 
pranks  of  her  midshipmen  brothers  to  me  who  had 
never  seen  the  sea  then,  nor  a ship  nor  a midship- 
mite.  Annie  and  I contentedly  took  our  “ depri- 
vation of  recess  ” for  this  enjoyment  until  a cruel 
teacher  broke  us  up  by  looking  down  from  an 
upper  window  to  see  what  made  so  much  color  and 
sound  in  the  big  treetop. 

Naturally  we  were  in  sjTnpath}’ with  other  idlers 
and  one  Ma3’-time  a party  of  us  fell  below  the  high 
standard  of  the  school  and  carried  the  election  of 
our  candidate  on  new  issues.  First  because  she 
was  beautiful.  Then  she  was  a good-natured,  gen- 
erous girl  who  brought  us  lots  of  flowers  and  fruits, 
and  who  could  play  heartily. 

Imagine  then  our  feelings  when  this  regular  elec- 
tion was  calmly  set  aside  “by  the  principal  and  all 
the  teachers."  Because  of  the  constant,  repeated 
and  unconcerned  indifference  of  our  May  Queen 
to  her  studies. 


THE  BODISCO  WEDDING. 


IS 

It  was  thought  well  to  make  her  an  example 
and  a warning  — also,  I suppose,  to  encourage  the 
good  girls,  for  we  were  told  our  May  Queen  should 
be  a girl,  “ who  had  the  entire  approbation  of  all  the 
'teachers^  whereupon  Miss  English  produced  the 
blushing,  shrinking,  really  lovely  girl  who  obeyed 
that,  as  she  obeyed  every  other  order,  to  be  the 
May  Queen. 

Eut  we,  the  commons,  rallied  on  the  playground 
and  there  in  safety  let  loose  our  unavailing  wrath 
against  our  tyrants,  and  swore  loyalty  to  our  Beauty. 

She  did  not  care  — but  took  it  all  with  smiling 
composure.  It  would  make  her  father  so  angry, 
she  said,  that  he  would  take  her  from  school  ( she 
was  a day  scholar ) and  so,  for  awhile  anyway, 
there  would  be  a holiday  for  her. 

We  decided  on  a mutiny,  and  organized  a head- 
ache all-round  for  May-day ; when  our  large  squad 
was  marched  off  to  the  Infirmary  and  heroically  ac- 
cepted our  penalty — the  tea-cup  full  of  senna-tea 
ordered  and  (worse  luck ) enforcedlox  “ headaches.” 
We  soothed  our  disturbed  stomachs  however  by  the 
certainty  that  our  keeping  away  spoiled  the  f^te. 


i6 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


Judge,  then,  of  the  pride  — the  triumph  — we  felt, 
when  it  was  announced  that  Bodisco  the  Splendid 
was  to  marry  our  candidate  ! That  he  was  far  past 
sixty,  and  she  but  sixteen  was  a mere  detail  — the 
main  fact  was  that  we  were  endorsed  by  a higher 
authority  even  than  “ the  principal,  and  all  the 
teachers.”  And  when  to  this  came  the  added  fact 
that  I was  to  be  one  of  the  bridesmaids,  our  triumph 
was  complete. 

Bodisco  possessed  the  whole  science  of  ceremo- 
nials, and  the  man7ier  of  the  marriage  was  of  gov- 
erning importance  in  his  mind.  The  bridesmaids 
must  be  young,  to  harmonize  with  the  bride.  Also 
they  must  be  names  that  were  known  to  the  public. 
Then  the  groomsman  must  be  suited  to  his  dignity 
(and  age),  consequently  it  was  April  and  December 
all  through. 

With  this  came  the  vexed  question  of  precedence. 
The  English  minister,  Henr)'  Fox  (of  the  Holland 
family),  was  a man  who  went  nowhere  unless  com- 
pelled by  strict  etiquette.  His  only  pursuit  was 
cards.  Long  since  his  debts  had  exiled  him  from 
England,  and  in  Moore’s  Life  of  Byron  there  is  a 


THE  BODISCO  WEDDING.  1 9 

letter  from  Ravenna  in  which  Byron  says  “ I met 
yesterday  Henry  Fox  so  changed  that  his  oldest 
creditor  could  not  recognize  him.”  He  was  now  a 
withered,  cynical,  silent,  gray  little  old  man. 

Of  equal  right  to  a first  place  was  Mr.  Buchanan 
who  had  been  Minister  to  Russia,  and  was  at  pres- 
ent Senator. 

Bodisco  consulted  my  father  among  others  on 
this  troubling  question,  “as  to  whether  Russia 
should  give  England  or  America  the  first  position  ? ” 
which  was  compromised  by  the  happy  thought  of 
making  both  first ; by  placing  us  in  couples  and  not 
as  usual,  the  bridesmaids  by  the  bride  and  the 
groomsmen  by  the  groom,  but  Mr.  Fox  with  the 
sister  of  the  bride  would  be  next  the  groom,  while 
Mr.  Buchanan  and  myself  were  to  be  next  the 
bride. 

It  was  while  he  was  talking  of  this  to  my  father 
that  for  the  first  time  the  personality  of  the  bride- 
groom came  clearly  to  me.  Unlimited  holiday, 
cake,  fine  gowns,  a general  delightful  upsetting  of 
all  use  and  wont  of  school  life  had  been  my  only 
impression.  Now,  contrasted  by  my  father’s  su- 


20 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


perb  physique  — his  clean,  fair,  noble  presence,  his 
steady  blue  eye  and  firm  mouth  — the  curious  ug- 
liness of  Bodisco  came  out  painfully. 

He  was  a short  and  stout  man  with  a broad  Cal- 
muck-face,  much  wrinkled,  and  furred  across  by 
shaggy  whiskers  which  joined  into  the  mustache 
over  a wide  mouth  with  rather  projecting  teeth ; a 
shining  brown  wig  curled  low  over  shaggy  eye- 
brovv’s  and  restless  little  eyes,  while  his  manner  was 
at  variance  with  all  my  ideas  of  dignity. 

Suddenly  I had  an  instinct  into  another  aspect 
of  this  gay  marriage. 

But  it  was  too  busy  a time  for  thinking.  The 
dressmaker,  the  drill  in  the  management  of  my 
first  long  skirt,  the  being  drilled  to  the  programme 
of  this  performance  (which  we  had  in  written  parts 
and  studied  as  for  a play),  the  getting  used  to  keep 
awake  after  nine  o’clock,  etc.,  etc.,  etc.,  filled  all  the 
time.  Of  course  I had  been  brought  home  from 
school  and  had  a thoroughly  good  time  — ever}' 
minute  of  it. 

Bodisco  had  planned  our  toilet  as  well  as  every 
other  detail  of  the  performances.  The  dresses 


THE  BODISCO  WEDDING. 


21 


were  to  be  very  long ; of  white  “ figured  ” satin,  with 
blonde  lace  about  the  neck  and  sleeves  ; a high  full 
wreath  of  soft  white  roses,  a fan  of  ivory  and  white 
feathers,  and  a great  bouquet  of  white  camelias : 
the  most  elegant  of  bouquets  then  before  the  poor 
flowers  were  lowered  by  a French  pen  to  one 
meaning  only. 

The  imposing  “ Mrs.  Abbott,  Milliner  and  Man- 
tua-maker,  from  London,”  herself  built  my  gown. 

When  the  great  day  came  I seem  to  have  been 
all  morning  in  the  hands  of  one  and  another  and 
paraded  up  and  down,  delighted  with  my  finery  as 
well  I might  be,  for  it  was  a rich  and  stately  dress ; 
although  the  skirt  was  plaited  on  full  all  round  from 
the  tip  of  a long  point  in  front  to  another  long  point 
behind,  the  stuff  cut  away  to  let  the  long  slim  waist 
come  well  down  into  the  soft  fullness  below,  and 
although  we  had  sleeves,  and  to  the  sleeves  a frill  of 
lace  falling  over  the  elbows,  and  a “ tucker  ” of  lace 
from  the  top  of  the  decently-cut  low  body,  and  the 
wreath  was  not  bad  either  in  its  effects. 

It  was  a lovely  day  in  early  spring,  fortunately, 
for  though  it  was  a wide  and  roomy  house  the  com- 


22 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


pany  overflowed  into  hall  and  piazzas  and  the 
grounds,  while  out  in  the  road  (it  was  on  the  heights 
of  Georgetown)  the  crowd  of  carriages  was  swarmed 
around  about  by  a throng  of  outsiders.  It  was  like 
a gay  country  fair  with  its  cheery  moving  crowd. 

The  President,  Mr.  Van  Buren,  was  there.  All 
the  officials,  of  all  kinds.  All  the  Diplomatic  Corps, 
in  full  dress  — army  and  navy  officers  in  full  uni- 
form and  a crowd  of  ladies  in  full  morning  dress. 

What  a dazzle  for  this  quiet  family  of  a clerk 
whose  small  salary  and  many  children  had  kept  him 
from  any  contact  with  this  phase  of  life.  The  bride 
was  of  course  entirely  unknown  to  the  Washington 
world,  and  from  her  youth,  hardly  outside  of  her 
family.  Bodisco  put  back  all  offered  visits,  saying 
she  was  too  young,  it  was  best  to  wait  until  she 
should  have  him  with  her  to  receive  in  her  own 
house,  and  it  was  understood  that  she  was  not  to 
be  seen  until  the  morning  of  the  marriage.  You 
can  fancy  the  curiosity  of  the  guests. 

V'e,  with  the  bride,  were  in  an  upper  room  wait- 
ing our  signal  to  descend.  The  bride  was  in  great 
glee  peeping  between  the  blinds  and  laughing  at 


THE  BODISCO  WEDDING. 


23 


the  crowd  outside,  and  it  was  : “ Girls  ! here  comes 
the  carriage,  see  the  satin  rosettes  on  the  horses  ! 
(the  long-tailed  prancing  blacks)  and  the  big  bou- 
quets on  the  servants,  and  Bodisco  says  I wwr/wear 
this  cloak  when  we  drive  off.  Hot  thing ! and  oh, 
here’s  your  flowers  (the  camelias),  and  here’s  a pearl 
ring  apiece  from  Bodisco,  and  I am  so  hungry,  but  I 
can’t  have  anything  until  we  get  breakfast  at  his 
house.” 

Then  the  anxious  master  of  ceremonies  came  up 
• — paper  in  hand,  reading  out  our  names  in  order 
and  marshalling  us  down  the  narrow  back-stairway 
with  many  charges  as  to  our  precious  gowns  ( we, 
now  all  silent  and  “ on  duty  ”) , to  the  large  room 
where  the  ceremony  was  to  be  performed.  Here 
waited  the  venerable  groomsmen  and  also  Henry 
Clay  who  was  to  give  away  the  bride. 

Then  Bodisco,  with  his  paper  still  in  hand,  di- 
rected each  couple  into  proper  position.  The  bride 
and  himself  to  face  the  folding-doors.  To  his  left 
Mr.  Fox  in  scarlet  and  gold  court  suit  — his  rough 
gray  eyebrows  frowned  over  his  half-shut  eyes  and 
his  whole  look  and  attitude  a protest  — while  by  him 


24 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


was  a smiling  rosy  little  blonde  of  thirteen,  sister 
to  the  bride. 

To  the  right  of  the  bride  was  IMr.  Buchanan,  tall 
and  of  fine  presence  and  quite  a type  of  Sa.\on  col- 
oring and  freshness  despite  his  silvered  head,  and 
with  him,  myself  — aged  fourteen. 

The  Chevalier  de  Martini,  Minister  from  the 
Hague  — not  young  — large,  placid,  easy  friends 
with  every  one,  and  in  a softly-amused  state  of 
smiles,  had  the  eldest  of  the  bridesmaids,  a girl  of 
si.vteen,  the  daughter  of  Commodore  Morris."'^  Her 
pensive  beauty  was  already  touched  with  the  hectic 
flush  of  the  disease  which  ended  her  young  life 
soon  after  — as  it  had  that  of  an  elder  sister  in 
whose  memory  the  “Louise  Home”  was  founded. 

Of  the  eight  couples  only  two  were  of  equal 
youth  ; Smith  Van  Buren,  the  President’s  youngest 
son,  and  Kemble  Paulding,  also  under  twenty, 
whose  father  w'as  Secretary  of  the  Navy,  these 
had  been  given  two  pretty  cousins  of  the  bride. 

She  herself  rose  above  them  all  — fairest  and 


* Many  years  after  at  a dinner  in  New  Y'ork,  when  he  was  fatnnns  — and 
old  — Admiral  Farragiit  talked  to  me  of  that  wedoing  and  of  the  lovely 
fading  girl  who  was,  he  said,  the  unattained  dream  of  his  young  time. 


THE  BODISCO  WEDDING. 


25 


tallest.  Her  dress  was  fashioned  on  that  of  Rus- 
sian brides  and  was  of  rich  white  satin  with  much 
silver  lace  — soft  and  flexible  as  silk  lace,  but  of 
most  rich  and  luminous  effect.  On  her  yellow  hair 
rested  a coronet  of  red  velvet  covered  with  dia- 
monds, and  from  that  fell,  over  the  shoulders,  and 
far  down  the  long  train,  an  exquisite  veil  of  silver 
lace,  light  and  sparkling  as  cobwebs  on  the  grass 
when  the  first  level  morning  sun  lights  up  the  dew- 
drops  on  them.  Large  ear-rings  of  diamonds  trem- 
bled against  her  rose-leaf  cheeks  and  shone  on  her 
long  white  throat  — she  was 

as  fair  a bride 

As  e’er  the  sun  shone  on, 

While  he — ! 

But  he  was  content.  When  we  were  arranged 
quite  to  his  taste,  in  a horseshoe  curve,  the  glis- 
tening white  dresses  and  young  faces  and  flowers 
thrown  into  higher  relief  by  the  age  and  court  dress 
of  the  men,  while  Bishop  Johns  in  full  canonicals, 
and  Mr.  Clay  tall  and  dignified,  made  the  con- 
trasting touch,  Bodisco  gave  a last  reviewing 


26 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


look,  then  ordered  the  doors  to  be  rolled  back. 
Certainly  the  guests  saw  a beautiful  tableau  — 
whether  painful  also  it  was  for  each  one  to  judge. 
But  of  this  we  had  no  thought.  To  go  through 
our  parts  with  ease  and  dignity,  to  remain  in  posi- 
tion during  the  ceremonious  congratulations  and 
only  speak  m answer,  to  group  around  the  bride- 
cake with  its  ring,  and  offer  it  to  those  coming  to 
its  special  flower-dressed  table,  these  were  our  limit. 
The  next  act  was  the  retiring  in  procession,  to  de- 
scend to  our  carriages.  The  great  wrap  of  white 
satin  and  swansdown  had  to  be  worn  — it  was  part 
of  the  programme.  And  we,  each  with  a little  “ tip- 
pet ” the  same  as  our  gowns,  with  a border  of  swans- 
down also,  passed  gravely  through  the  fine  company 
which  opened  a way  for  us,  bowing  in  silence  in 
return  to  salutations,  and  each  couple  entered 
their  carriage  ; when  the  procession  moved  slowly 
through  the  crowd  down  the  hill  to  Mr.  Bodisco’s 
house,  where,  at  last,  we  were  allowed  to  be  natu- 
ral. For  Bodisco  was  a most  kind,  amiable  man 
and  the  bald  old  house-steward  Dona  understood 
young  people. 


THE  BODISCO  WEDDING. 


27 


We  were  in  “ for  a full  clue  ” — a whole  day  of 
it.  The  wedding  breakfast  was  only  a part.  A 
great  dinner  of  forty  persons  was  to  follow  our 
matinee.  We  bridesmaids  were  not  let  to  go  home  ; 
it  was  not  safe  to  disband  the  young  troupe  until 
the  evening  performance  was  over. 

Our  venerable  escorts  retired  after  the  breakfast, 
while  we  were  given  the  range  of  one  floor  to  our- 
selves with  all  manner  of  picture  books  and  games 
laid  out,  but  the  excitement,  the  heavy  dress  and 
the  wrong  hours  we  had  been  keeping  made  of  us 
a sorry  little  company.  A kind  aunt  of  the  bride 
knew  what  was  best  for  us  and  soon,  with  our  wreaths 
laid  away  and  loose,  short  gowns  over  our  finery, 
we  were  carefully  disposed  upon  sofas,  and  slept 
over  into  freshened  color  and  spirits. 

A great  feast  was  not  new  to  me,  but  this  was 
my  first  unaided  appearance  as  a chief  actor,  and  in 
place  of  my  proper  muslin  and  sash  I Avas  in  grown- 
up finery  and  one  does  act  up  to  their  dress.  I 
never,  in  any  country,  have  seen  such  really  ele- 
gant as  well  as  thoroughly  splendid  dinners  as  those 
given  to  my  father  in  New  Orleans  by  his  friends 


28 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


and  clients  among  the  wealthy  planters.  In  their 
vexatious  business  visits  to  Washington  we  were 
often  their  “ little  interpreters,”  and  when  back  at 
home  they  insisted  on  including  us  in  their  hospi- 
talities. Just  lately,  too,  j\Ir.  Van  Buren  had  given 
a dinner  to  his  son.  Smith,  but  this  was  a very 
young  people’s  dinner,  and  to  me  the  President’s 
house  was  old  familiar  ground. 

There  had  been  so  much  said  of  this  marriage 
that  it  seemed  as  though  all  must  be  different.  But 
except  the  queerly  disproportioned  ages  of  part  of 
the  company,  it  was  like  other  great  dinners. 
Longer  then  than  would  be  endured  now  — and 
with  great  stateliness.  Sitting  facing  the  bride  and 
bridegroom  I was  directly  under  our  manager’s  eye 
and  acquitted  myself  so  much  to  his  liking  that  he 
asked  I might  come  frequently  to  spend  a Saturday 
with  the  bride. 

This  was  not  to  be,  however  — the  tremendous 
sick-headache  following  all  this  upsetting  of  a sim- 
ple life  made  the  decision  that  I was  to  be  returned 
to  that  way  of  living  after  one  more  dinner,  that 
given  by  the  President,  Here  again  Bodisco  pre- 


THE  BODISCO  WEDDING. 


29 


pared  his  tableau.  He  gave  us  our  directions  in 
the  dressing-room,  and  our  little  procession  crossed 
that  windy  hall  into  the  drawing-room.  Mr.  Van 
Buren  had  it,  later,  somewhat  protected  by  the  glass 
screens  that  now  extend  across,  but  many  a cold 
was  taken  there  after  wraps  were  laid  aside. 

We  were  grouped  either  side  of  the  bride,  our 
bright  white  dresses  serving  as  margin  and  setting 
to  the  central  figure.  This  night  her  dress  was  of 
pale  green  velvet,  its  long  train  having  a border 
of  embroidery  in  gold  thread  not  brighter  than  her 
yellow  hair,  and  pearls  and  emeralds  were  her 
ornaments. 

Mr.  Van  Buren  had  great  tact  and  knew  how  to 
make  each  one  show  to  advantage.  He  was  also 
very  witty,  though  he  controlled  this,  knowing  its 
danger  to  a man  in  public  life.  But  it  was  all  there. 

He  had  been  Minister  to  England  and  the  silver 
gilt  dessert  service  he  got  there  he  had  brought  to 
the  White  House.  In  the  speeches  made  against 
him  at  the  election  in  which  he  was  defeated  by 
General  Harrison,  his  opponents  alwa3rs  made  a 
contrast  between  the  “ log-cabin  life  of  the  old  sol- 


30 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


dier”and  the  “effeminate”  life  of  Mr.  Van  Buren. 
The  most  telling  of  these  speakers  was  a Mr.  Ogle, 
who  made  a great  point  of  the  “ gold  spoons.”  He 
had  been  one  of  Mr.  Van  Buren’s  most  frequent 
guests.  Mr.  Van  Buren  was  asked  if  Ogle  was 
right  about  those  “ gold  spoons.”  “ He  ought  to 
know,”  was  his  answer,  “he  has  often  had  them  in 
his  mouth.” 

With  such  a host,  in  such  a house,  the  dinner  and 
the  invited  reception  that  followed  had  to  be  beau- 
tiful and  a success.  That  old  mirror-plateau  has 
never  reflected  such  an  odd  company  — and  it  has 
seen  much. 

“ Little  pitchers  have  large  ears.”  We  had  heard, 
and  made  afterwards  our  own  comments  on,  a speech 
made  by  a lady  near  us  during  the  cake-cutting. 

“ Now  i/iis  is  a good  match.  The  first  since  Mrs. 
Calvert  drove  away  from  St.  John’s  Church  in  her 
carriage  and  four  — the  Washington  girls  have  been 
marrying  poor  army  and  navy  officers  and  turning 
into  dowdies  instead  of  keeping  their  place  in  the 
world  and  having  a handsome  house  to  receive 
their  friends  in.” 


THE  BODISCO  WEDDING. 


31 


Some  of  those  “ poor  army  and  navy  men  ” have 
since  been  of  such  large  use  to  their  country  that 
the  girls  who  decided  for  “Jock  o’  Hazledean” 
rather  think  they  got  all. 

But  this  marriage  of  Bodisco’s  was  a happy  one 
to  him  and  evidently  of  contentment  to  her.  Much 
of  the  frothiness  of  his  ways  was  dropped  and  he 
came  into  a new  condition  of  esteem  as  his  good 
domestic  side  proved  itself.  An  occasional  visit 
to  Russia,  where  she  was  very  well  received,  their 
children,  the  usual  life  of  society  in  which  she  took 
her  part  amiably  and  well,  carried  them  over  the 
next  ten  or  twelve  years,  when  he  died. 

From  the  date  of  his  marriage  he  had  made  all 
her  family  his.  Giving  sound  training  to  the  young 
ones,  providing  for  all,  and  in  every  way  gaining 
for  himself  the  respect  of  many  who  had  thought  it 
a risky  marriage.  In  his  will,  he  hoped  she  would 
marry  again  and  be  as  happy  as  she  had  made 
him. 

She  married  an  English  officer  and  has  lived 
chiefly  in  India,  and  I am  told  preserves  much  of 
her  unusual  beauty  notwithstanding  great  stoutness. 


32 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MV  TIME. 


Bodisco  alwa3-s  kept  a verj'  kind  feeling  for  me  and 
was  greatly  pleased  with  every  success  that  came 
to  me  — most,  when  I was  '^restored  to  Washington 
Society  ” by  being  in  the  Senate.  Official  position 
had  come  to  mean  a great  deal  to  him  — it  was  in 
his  mind  the  “ guinea’s  stamp.” 

Many  of  us  who  had  made  part  of  the  marriage 
were  again  gathered  in  the  large  hospitable  house 
for  the  funeral  of  its  head. 

Through  misplaced  family  feeling  their  clergj-- 
man  had  been  asked  to  make  “ an  address  ” wliich 
proved  narrow  and  one-sided,  though  well-meaning. 

He  deplored  the  “errors”  of  the  creed  in  which 
the  departed  had  been  trained,  but  “trusted  his 
closing  years  had  surrounded  him  with  such  im- 
proving influences  that  we  might  yet  hope,”  etc. 

Near  me  was  standing  that  clever,  practised 
writer  and  man  of  tact  and  society  usage,  ^Ir.  Sea- 
ton. We  exchanged  looks  as  this  almost  unkind 
talk  rolled  on  and  on. 

But  when  the  clergr-man  repeated  : “ And  if  our 
departed  brother’s  spirit  could  look  down  on  us 
now  he  would  say  ” — 


THE  BODISCO  WEDDING. 


33 


Mr.  Seaton  whispered  — “ He  would  say,  ‘ IVhat 
a bad-manage-cereniony'  ” 

What  might  have  been  said  was  what  we  all 
knew  and  felt,  that  there  was  a man  who  had  filled 
the  law  of  kindness  to  his  family,  and  who  had 
made  himself  the  careful  and  wise  head  of  the 
whole  family  of  his  young  wife  — whose  life  of  cer- 
emonies and  show  had  not  changed  the  real  good- 
ness of  a nature,  which  in  this  later  light  won  many 
friends  for  him.  And  many  who  had  had  their  jest 
at  the  marriage  had  now  only  a sincere  prayer  for 
the  good  old  Russian  minister. 


CHAPTER  II. 


A VIRGINIA  WEDDING. 

' I ''HE  rejoicings  of  the  triumphant  party  were 
yet  in  the  air  when  their  plans  were  ov’er- 
thrown  by  the  death  of  the  President,  General  Har- 
rison. His  inauguration  was  followed,  in  just  one 
month,  by  his  funeral.  He  was  the  first  who  had 
died  whilst  President,  and  the  state  funeral  was  one 
of  much  solemnity.  And  the  leaders  of  the  Whig 
party  were  real  mourners,  for  after  twelve  years’  ex- 
clusion from  power,  suddenly,  in  the  first  moments 
of  restored  power,  they  found  themselves  thrown 
into,  at  best,  uncertainties.  It  was  hard  on  such 
men  as  Clay  and  Webster,  to  whom  added  years 
would  take  away  much  of  energ}-,  even  of  interest 
in  public  life.  “ It  is  only  four  years  to  wait,” 
might  be  to  them  as  Mrs.  Livingston  of  Louisiana 
had  answered  my  mother  once  ; “ At  my  age  four 


34 


A VIRGINIA  WEDDING. 


35 


years  is  too  long  to  wait  for  vahn-jarce  or  joos- 
teece.” 

But  it  was  no  day  of  mourning  for  some  of  us 
younger  ones.  Our  grandmother  had  been  with  us 
all  winter  — intensely  interested  in  the  inner  work- 
ings of  national  government.  For  her  the  war  for 
independence  and  the  War  of  1812  were  near  per- 
sonal memories ; and  her  simple  sincere  patriotism, 
and  interest  in  all  measures  belonging  with  “the 
welfare  of  my  country,”  made  the  whole  winter  de- 
lightful. The  inauguration  had  been  an  occasion 
of  profound  interest ; now  came  this  startling  re- 
minder of  the  common  lot.  When  we  were  offered 
a house  on  the  Avenue  from  where  she  could  see 
comfortably  all  the  procession,  my  unconscious 
grandmother  accepted  with  great  pleasure  ; little 
guessing  she  was  a marplot  and  an  agent  of  des- 
tiny. 

Here  let  me  remind  you  of  a story  in  the  Arabian 
Nights  of  which  I remember  only  the  outline,  and 
its  intention  as  a lesson  in  the  folly  of  attempting 
to  resist  “ what  is  written  ” (in  the  Book  of  Destiny). 
It  is  that  of  a Prince  whose  fate  as  foretold  by  the 


36 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


astrologers  was  to  be  bright  beyond  compare  should 
he  survive  his  twenty-first  birthday  ; about  which 
time  a deadly  peril  was  to  come  to  him.  To  avert 
this  the  King  has  the  Prince  taken,  as  he  nears 
the  dangerous  age,  to  an  island.  His  dwelling- 
place  there  is  further  made  safe  by  being  under- 
ground, with  a concealed  entrance,  leading  b)’  many 
marble  steps  through  richly-hung  subterranean  pas- 
sages, lit  by  the  usual  silver,  gold  and  alabaster 
lamps  filled  with  perfumed  oil,  to  enchanting  rooms 
where  everything  you  please  ministered  to  his  plea- 
sures, and  wise  men  watched  over  him.  How  his 
health  withstood  want  of  sun  and  open  air,  and 
what  was  done  for  ventilation  and  drainage,  does 
not  enter  into  the  story.  But  there  the  Prince  re- 
mains in  safety  and  happiness  until  the  fatal  birth- 
day, when  he  met  with  some  trifling  accident  from 
which  he  died  ; as  was  written." 

The  Government  had  rented  a house  near  the 
foot  of  Capitol  Hill  for  the  making  up  of  the  large 
maps  of  the  geographical  survey  of  the  sources  of 
the  Mississippi.  A French  geographer  and  savant, 
Mr.  Nicollet,  had  been  the  head  of  this  survey,  and 


A VIRGINIA  WEDDING. 


37 


to  him  had  been  assigned  an  engineer  officer  who 
knew  French.  Their  three  years’  work  was  being 
made  up  here,  and  it  was  in  one  of  these  large  rooms 
we  were  to  wait,  and  from  its  windows  see  the  long 
funeral  procession  as  it  approached  up  the  Avenue 
and  ascended  the  Capitol  Hill. 

The  working  tables  had  been  carried  up  to  an- 
other floor  (lots  of  trouble  that)  and  this  best  room 
made  charming  by  many  flowers  and  plants  in  pots. 
A cheerful  woodfire  made  a good  contrast  to  the 
chill  gray  day,  and  there  was  a pretty  tea-table  with 
cakes  and  ices  and  bonbons.  It  was  for  my  grand- 
mother’s special  pleasure  we  were  there,  and  only 
a few  of  our  friends  had  been  added.  These  wise 
elders  were  troubled  that  their  young  host  should 
have  made  such  graceful  preparations  for  them  — 
expensive  to  “ a poor  army  man  ” — but  this  was 
one  of  the  unforeseen  chances  for  meeting  which 
parental  wisdom  had  decreed  must  be  seldom, 
and  so  who  can  blame  the  happy  extravagance  of 
the  lucky  Lieutenant  ? Outside  in  the  raw  cold  of 
early  spring  was  the  heavy  tramp  of  a great  crowd, 
and  the  wailing  of  funeral  marches;  within,  our 


38 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


friendly  group  excited  and  amused  (and  two  en- 
tirely content).  A good  army  surgeon  had  given 
“ sick-leave  ” for  the  day  to  the  young  officer 
who  was  but  too  happy  to  be  of  every  service  to 
his  guests.  No  servant  was  good  enough  to  mini- 
ster to  them  — himself  brought  in  the  logs  and 
kept  up  the  blazing  fire  (regardless  of  his  best  uni- 
form). The  tea  or  the  ices  he  brought  to  each 
himself  : how  much  freezing,  how  much  star\’ing, 
what  unceasing  dangers  by  night  and  by  day  he 
was  so  soon  to  meet,  and  how  interwoven  his  life 
was  to  be  with  ours,  we  could  not  see  then  ; but, 
as  the  Orientals  put  it,  “ it  was  writie?!.’' 

The  next  day  all  the  geraniums  and  roses  were 
sent  to  my  mother.  This  was  growing  dangerous. 
Therefore,  suddenly,  a survey  of  the  Des  Moines 
River  was  found  necessary,  and  for  that  little  work, 
our  young  host  was  detached  from  his  important 
duty  of  finishing  their  Mississippi  sur\'eys  and 
ordered  to  Iowa. 

Soon,  we  also  left  Washington  to  go  into  Vir- 
ginia for  a marriage  that  was  to  assemble  the  fam- 
ily connection.  In  the  heart  of  the  Blue  Ridge 


A VIRGINIA  WEDDING. 


39 


near  the  Natural  Bridge,  is  the  picturesque  moun- 
tain town  of  Lexington ; beautiful  from  its  scenery 
and  refined  by  being  a centre  of  education.  Here 
is  the  university  endowed  by  Washington,  known 
of  late  as  the  “Washington  and  Lee  University ; ” 
the  “ Anne  Smith  Academy,”  founded  and  endowed 
at  the  same  early  date  by  a lady  of  wealth, 
where  came  the  daughters  of  good  families  with 
their  waiting  maids  and  riding  horses;  where  they 
learned  a little  Latin,  and  much  Italian,  including 
the  compact,  clear  Italian  handwriting;  and  im- 
possible French.  This  with  much  English  history 
and  poetry,  the  care  of  their  complexions  and  hands, 
and  a disproportionate  amount  of  society,  seemed 
to  constitute  the  course.  From  which  they  came 
out  none  the  worse  to  be  admirable  mothers  and 
managers  of  large  households,  and  ready  for  all  the 
serious  work  of  life. 

There  also  was  the  State  Military  Institute,  of 
which  for  a long  while  Stonewall  Jackson  was  head. 
These,  with  the  many  buildings  for  residency  of 
Presidents,  Professors,  etc.,  etc.,  crowned  the  long 
ridge  of  College  Hill,  back  of  which  was  the  mas- 


40 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


sive  height  of  the  level-topped  House  Mountain. 
Here  the  Blue  Ridge  encircles  the  hilly  valley  in 
which  lies  the  town.  Country  houses  were  on  all 
the  detached  hills.  The  most  simple  drive  required 
wheels  to  be  locked  and  a “ baulking-horse  ” was 
counted  on  ; it  was  all  lovely  to  look  at,  but  dan- 
gerous to  drive  about,  and  places  w'ere  too  far  apart 
for  walking.  But  there  was  much  and  very  pleas- 
ant society,  for  this  centre  of  education  had  attracted 
men  of  cultivated  tastes.  The  original  settlement 
had  been  largely  Scotch,  which  was  a benefit  in 
various  ways  ; for  learning,  for  upright,  pugnacious 
principle,  for  real  hospitality  — and  for  that  good 
cookery  which  Scotland  owed  to  its  friendly  alli- 
ance with  France. 

In  colonial  times  the  English  government  paid 
but  little  money  to  the  younger  officers,  giving  them 
instead  “ militar}'  grants  of  wild  lands.”  My  grand- 
father, “ the  old  colonel,”  had  in  this  way  inherited 
from  his  father,  a lieutenant-colonel  in  a Scotch 
regiment,  not  only  the  great  estate  near  Lexington 
where  he  was  born  and  died,  but  “ wild  lands  ” in 
the  West,  some  of  which  he  exchanged  for  bodies 


A VIRGINIA  WEDDING. 


41 


of  grazing  lands  near  him  in  Virginia.  One  tract 
so  exchanged  is  the  southern  portion  of  the  city  of 
Cincinnati. 

We  were  many  when  the  wedding  guests  gath- 
ered. Travelling  in.  their  own  carriages  with  chil- 
dren and  nurses  and  maids,  came  aunts  who  were 
to  go  on  afterwards  to  their  cottages  at  the  White 
Sulphur  Springs.  Some  from  Richmond,  some 
from  Abingdon  where  the  salt  works  were  an  item 
of  family  properties  ; a delicate  girl  and  her  watch- 
ful anxious  brother, represented  our  “ family  Mecca  ” 
at  Smithfield  where  their  English  habits  were  still 
maintained  ; where  on  the  death  of  the  head  of  the 
family  the  widow  at  once  moved  into  the  Dower- 
House,  a separate  but  communicating  complete  es- 
tablishment, leaving  the  chief  hou.se  to  the  elder 
son.  The  brother  now  here  was  afterwards  Sec- 
retary of  the  Navy  under  Mr.  Buchanan  ; later  not 
only  themselves,  but  noble  old  properties  were  given 
by  these  families  to  their  “ cause.”  From  his  church 
in  Baltimore  came  the  fiery,  eloquent  Robert  Breck- 
enridge  ; himself  a near  kinsman,  but  still  more 
closely  connected  by  marriage ; a man  of  sponta- 


42 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


neous  wit  and  freshness.  The  aunt  from  Richmond 
was  his  equal  in  mind,  and  justified  her  descent 
from  Patrick  Henry,  while  my  Uncle  McDowell  was 
held  to  be  the  most  graceful  scholar  in  Virginia. 
They  were  all  very  handsome  also  and  attached 
great  value  to  looks.  We  young  ones  were  put 
through  the  ordeal  of  examination,  comparison  and 
criticism  at  family  meetings  — quite  as  though  we 
were  models  and  had  no  sensitiveness  our  elders 
should  respect.  All  the  consideration  then  was  from 
the  young  to  the  old  : ?ioiis  avous  change  tout  fela. 

I was  thought  very  like  a favorite  cousin  w'hose 
husband  as  well  as  herself  died  young,  leaving  two 
orphan  children.  In  this  very  healthy,  verj'  pros- 
perous, very  handsome  connection,  sorrow  or  death 
seemed  to  need  apology.  There  was  clearly  apol- 
ogy, as  well  as  tenderness,  in  the  “ poor  Eliza  ” and 
“ poor  Charles.”  I was  used  to  these  comments 
and  hardened  to  their  invariable  “ her  nose  is  not 
nearly  so  delicate  as  poor  Eliza’s,”  but  they  were 
shared  now  by  her  son  — a charming  lad  of  eigh- 
teen, in  all  the  enjoyment  and  importance  of  his 
first  vacation  from  West  Point.  We  singularly 


A VIRGINIA  WEDDING. 


43 


alike,  but  we  grew  tired  of  being  stood  side  by  side 
and  freshly  commented  on  by  more  cousins  and 
more  friends  who  kept  up  perpetual  visiting. 

A young  groomsman  who  had  come  with  the 
bridegroom,  the  cadet,  myself,  and  a cousin  about 
twenty,  the  eldest  son  of  the  house,  used  to  escape 
when  we  could  — “anywhere,  anywhere  out  of  that 
world.” 

Once  a rainy  day  threw  us  on  our  invention. 
The  grown  people  had  the  library  : a lovely  blue- 
eyed girl  had  captivated  the  best  match  in  the  fam- 
ily who  was  just  back  from  his  four  years’  “ grand 
tour  ” in  Europe,  and  we  were  not  wanted  in  the 
drawing-room  where  she  and  our  pale  cousin  Jane 
had  the  piano  and  the  repose  they  preferred.  So 
we  made  off  to  the  great  upper  room  which  ex- 
tended over  the  whole  main  building  and  rummaged 
the  many  closets  and  chests  there  ; finding  amuse- 
ment in  costuming  ourselves  in  old  uniforms  and 
gowns.  The  cadet  mourned  that  his  youth  and 
slimness  made  these  veteran  suits  impossible,  while 
an  older  and  larger  cousin  got  himself  up  in  blue 
and  buff.  I ventured  (knowing  myself  to  be  a fav* 


44 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


orite)  to  put  on  my  beautiful  aunt’s  wedding  dress, 
which  had  been  chosen  by  her  brother,  William 
Preston  of  South  Carolina,  when  he  was  in  Paris 
at  the  time  Wellington  held  it  for  the  allies.  It 
was  of  blonde  over  satin  ; strict  Empire  in  cut — the 
waist  up  to  the  arms  and  not  a gather  in  the  close- 
gored  very  short  skirt  except  just  behind  where  a 
huge  satin  bow  and  wide  ends  fastened  the  narrow 
belt.  Our  dignified  elders  found  many  memories 
revived  by  the  sight  of  the  old  costumes  and  dis- 
covered more  points  of  likeness  between  myself 
and  “ poor  Eliza,”  and  her  son  had  additional  ten- 
derness given  him  as  they  talked  of  his  young 
mother.  My  light-hearted  young  cousin  had  been 
every  one’s  pet  — he  was  not  to  know  the  other 
side  of  life. 

Although  we  were  so  many  that  at  morning 
prayers  we  would  overflow  from  the  library  into  the 
hall,  yet  I remember  only  the  usual  quiet  order  and 
and  large  completeness  of  living.  Nothing  betrayed 
trouble  or  even  preparation.  All  that  went  on  un- 
seen to  the  guests  to  whom  was  paid  the  compli- 
ment that  they  gave  only  pleasure  by  their  pres- 


A VIRGINIA  WEDDING. 


45 


ence.  A woman  who  would  let  escape  any  fact  of 
fatigue  or  disturbance  would  have  been  seriously 
talked  against,  both  for  want  of  capacity  and  lack 
of  good  breeding. 

When  my  aunt  made  her  morning  visit  to  the 
large  rooms  devoted  to  store-room  and  housekeep- 
ing she  remained  longer  than  usual  in  consultation 
with  her  right  hand,  “ aunt  Melinda,”  a grave  cap- 
able mulatto  woman.  All  that  was  taken  from  the 
many  barrels  and  boxes  was  entered  in  a book,  and 
the  provisioning  of  this  family  garrison  planned 
well  ahead  with  the  forethought  and  exactness  of 
a military  establishment.  It  was  really  good  house- 
keeping. ■ There  v/as  a large  working  force  under 
well-drilled  serv^ants,  and  in  Virginia  this  manage- 
ment of  a household  was  as  much  a branch  of  edu- 
cation as  it  had  been  in  England  in  Addison’s  time. 
And  there  was  all  the  old-time  profusion  and  re- 
lays of  luxuries.  It  was  not  the  custom  to  travel 
away  immediately  after  the  ceremony. 

The  marriage  took  place  in  the  bride’s  own  home 
with  only  her  own  people  and  nearest  friends  pres- 
ent, and  in  her  own  home  she  remained  while  family 


46 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


friends  did  honor  to  her  in  her  new  dignity  at  their 
welcoming  homes.  It  was  quite  a point  that  some- 
thing made  by  the  hands  of  near  friends  should 
enter  into  the  bride’s  new  fittings  — these  were  mar- 
vels of  delicate  needlework.  I know  of  a Southern 
girl,  orphaned  and  impoverished  by  the  war,  who, 
living  in  New  York,  received  from  Mobile  on  the 
eve  of  her  marriage  a box  containing  everj’thing 
she  should  wear  on  that  occasion : fine  linens  and 
cambrics  and  muslins  and  lace,  all  the  gift  and 
handiwork  of  old  servants  — slaves — who  had 
their  feeling  that  their  young  mistress  must  not  be 
married  in  “ paid-for  ” sewing.  And  the  girl  had 
the  sweetness  to  wear  the  toilette  so  kindly  sent 
although  good  friends  had  provided  the  usual  out- 
fit. 

Another  customary  attention  was  a delicate  and 
decorated  “ bride-cake.”  Until  I was  among  Chi- 
nese cooks  on  the  Pacific  Coast  I never  saw  any- 
thing to  surpass  these  in  patient,  skilful  ornamen- 
tation. One  came  bedded  in  a great  v.'reath  of  ivy 
and  geranium  leaves,  made  of  the  candied  rind  of 
watermelon,  most  artistically  cut.  This  was  from 


A VIRGINIA  WEDDING. 


47 


a lady  who  to-day  would  be  called  an  aesthete 
(there  is  nothing  new  under  the  sun,  only  changes 
of  name)  ; all  her  arrangements  were  most  fanciful, 
exquisite  and  dainty. 

The  whole  countryside  “ entertained  ” the  bride. 
Evening  parties  or  dinners,  where  numbers  did 
not  seem  to  tell.  All  was  dignified  and  orderly  and 
most  hospitable.  We  must  have  been  more  than 
thirty  at  one  place  — one  of  the  oldest  and  most 
stately  of  the  neighborhood ; for  the  married  daugh- 
ters were  visiting  their  home; — beautiful  “dash- 
ing ” women  with  the  added  brilliancy  of  a larger 
outside  life.  The  general  tone  of  the  neighbor- 
hood was  staid  and  scholarly,  and  being  so  largely 
Scotch,  presbyterianly  serious.  Great  decorum 
and  reverence  of  manner  prevailed  in  the  one 
church,  which  stood  in  the  midst  of  its  large  grave- 
yard. At  one  end  of  this  were  sheds  and  hitching 
posts,  and  the  horse-blocks  on  which  pretty  girls 
lingered  as  they  unpinned  the  plaid  cloaks  that 
answered  for  ridmg-skirts,  and  shook  out  their  fresh 
dresses,  while  steady  old  horses  were  having  lifted 
down  from  them  the  children  before  and  the  boy 


48 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


behind  who  wedged  in  the  mother  on  the  saddle. 
There  were  country  carryalls,  and  fine  carriages  (of 
any  date)  from  London,  and  some  few  stylish  mod- 
ern equipages.  All  came  in  good  time  to  settle 
down  before  the  bell  ceased  tolling  and  before  “ the 
minister  ” appeared. 

But  often  after  that  would  come  a dash  and 
clatter  and  the  four-horse  barouche  of  old  Colonel 
Bowyer  would  swing  up  to  the  side  entrance,  the 
beautiful  daughters  come  smiling  in  to  their  double 
side  pew  the  young  men  following  in  fair-top  boots 
and  whip  in  hand,  while  their  dogs  crouched,  close 
as  they  dared, on  the  sunny  doorstep.  What  healthily 
beautiful  women  these  were  ! A high-necked  dress 
was  not  known  until  about  1840.  All  dresses  were 
cut  low  and  supplemented  by  capes.  This  family 
was  just  then  wearing  mourning  and  the  dazzling 
white  of  their  throats  and  the  tips  of  shoulders  if 
the  black  gauze  cape  slipped  was  something 
to  see.  They  had  too  much  vitality  and  the  newer 
w'ays  were  too  congenial  for  them  to  remain  up  to 
the  highest  standard  of  dignity,  but  they  had 
enough,  and  their  mother  was  its  very  model. 


A VIRGINIA  WEDDING. 


49 


Theirs  was  a stately  place  with  beautifully  adorned 
grounds.  The  long  avenue  opened  on  lawn  and 
gardens  bordered  with  squared  old  box  hedges,  so 
thick  and  high  that  a man  on  horseback  passing 
them  could  only  be  seen  from  the  waist  up.  The 
house  was  in  the  fashion  of  Arlington,  with  the 
pillared  portico  and  wings,  where  the  great  drawing 
and  dining-rooms  were  either  side  of  the  lofty  spa- 
cious hall. 

The  size  of  their  great  dining-room  made  us  seem 
an  ordinary  party  though  we  were  very  many  at  the 
dinner  there.  One  of  the  married  daughters  no- 
ticed fleeting  expressions  of  pain  on  her  mother’s 
face,  and  at  last  sent  her  a message  by  one  of  the 
servants  to  ask  if  she  was  not  well,  and  should  she 
not  take  her  place  ? which  was  frowned  down. 
But  though  the  flushes  of  color  and  twitches  of 
muscles  returned  at  times,  no  one  was  to  notice 
through  the  whole  beautiful  and  delicate  dinner. 

When  the  dessert  came  on  a centre  piece  of  en- 
tirely white  flowers  had  the  topmost  decoration 
taken  off  to  make  way  for  a special  bride-cake  to 
be  cut  by  the  bride  before  whom  it  was  placed.  Be- 


5° 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


fore  putting  on  the  dessert  the  upper  cloth  was  re- 
moved leaving  another  of  entirely  fresh  damask  ; 
then  followed  many  delightful  sweet  dishes  ( the 
cadet  telegraphed  us  his  satisfaction  in  these  as  he 
improved  the  occasion).  Finally  all  was  removed, 
showing  the  pride  and  care  of  the  dining-room  — 
the  polished  dark  mahogany  table  ; the  twisted  sil- 
ver candlesticks,  the  exquisite  old  cut  glass  and  fine 
silver  and  crystal  stands  for  fruits  and  flowers,  were 
beautifully  reflected  in  its  clear  depths. 

The  old  butler,  very  old  and  bent  and  a little 
childish,  had  insisted  on  his  right  to  place  the  cake 
before  the  bride,  although  rheumatism  — gout,  too, 
probably — hadweakned  his  hands.  But  he  crossed 
the  large  room  thinking  he  was  cariynng  it  on  its 
silver  tray  while  two  younger  sen’ants  respectfully 
propped  his  feeble  arms.  There  was  a difficult 
moment  when  the  three  reached  over  to  the  centre 
of  the  table,  but  he  did  not  see  the  kindly  smiling 
and  was  satisfied  to  have  done  for  this  bride  what 
had  been  his  right  and  pleasure  to  do  for  her  mother 
and  the  mothers  of  most  of  us.  This  little  cere- 
mony was  completed  by  his  being  given  a glass  of 


A VIRGINIA  WEDDING. 


SI 

wine  which  he  drank  to  the  bride’s  health,  and 
asked  a blessing  on  her  and  her  new  home. 

When  coffee  was  served  in  the  drawing-room  we 
learned  that  Mrs.  Bowyer  had  had  to  “ retire.”  The 
daughter  had  followed  up  her  observation,  and 
found  that,  “ rather  than  disturb  the  company  ” that 
social  martyr  of  a mother  had  sat  still  through  tor- 
ture. A hornet  had  got  caught  under  her  cape  and 
had  travelled  about — stinging  as  it  went ; searching 
for  an  outlet,  it  turned  down  between  the  shoulders 
where  the  angry  thing  fairly  browsed  about  the 
poor  woman’s  back.  Fever  came  on  and  she  was 
really  ill,  but  the  force  of  etiquette  and  hospitality 
combined  made  it  an  occasion  to  die  at  one’s  post. 

The  bride  had  started  for  her  new  home  “ prop- 
erly, in  her  own  travelling  carriage,”  the  others  had 
dispersed  to  the  Springs,  and  then  our  sweet  un- 
selfish grandmother  let  her  failing  condition  be 
known.  She  had  never  had  any  illness  and  hardly 
understood  her  loss  of  strength  and  general  faint- 
ness. It  was  the  ceasing  to  live,  rather  than  dying. 
But  it  increased  rapidly  and  soon  ended  her  life. 

It  constantly  pleased  her  to  feel  she  had  not 


52 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


brought  any  shadow  on  the  wedding  assembly,  that 
she  had  been  nearly  as  well  as  always,  “ only  tired.” 
Quite  conscious  that  it  was  rapidly  closing  she 
liked  to  dwell  on  her  long  life  so  mercifully  exempt 
from  illness,  or  sorrow,  or  cares.  “ But  I fear  for 
my  descendants  when  I think  how  much  has  been 
given  me  — there  must  come  a change  for  some  of 
them.’’  Born  in  a happy  and  prosperous  home, 
married  very  early  to  her  young  husband  and  living 
out  his  life  on  the  rich  estate  where  he  was  bom, 
where  her  children  were  happily  married  and  all 
but  one  settled  near  her,  knowing  only  contented 
love  and  pride  for  three  generations,  she  might  well 
feel  change  must  come. 

“ You  will  never  know  what  war  brings,”  she 
would  say  to  us.  “ My  mother  carried  to  her  grave 
a long  cut  on  the  forehead  from  the  knife  thrown 
by  an  Indian  ; an  Indian  in  the  British  service  — 
King  George's  mark,  she  called  it.”  And  there  was 
a story  of  English  officers  of  the  hated  Colonel 
Tarleton’s  command  riding  up  and  demanding  for- 
age and  food  for  themselves  and  the  soldiers  with 
them ; of  the  rudeness  of  one  officer  who  did  not 


A VIRGINIA  WEDDING. 


55 


understand  the  politeness  with  which  they  were 
told  it  must  take  an  hour  to  prepare  dinner  and  in 
the  meantime  would  the  gentlemen  go  to  the  rooms 
where  they  could  take  off  the  dust ; of  the  excellent 
dinner  — of  her  mother’s  having  dressed  herself  in 
her  best  damask  gown  and  petticoat  — of  the  rude 
and  angry  expression  of  the  bad  officer  when  he 
saw  how  very  green  the  peas  were  (mint  or  lettuce 
or  something,  I forget,  was  put  in  to  add  to  their 
green  color).  “ I believe  you  mean  to  poison  us, 
madam.  That  is  the  meaning  of  all  your  fine 
airs  ” — of  how  the  lady  silently  sent  for  her  young- 
est child  — “ my  sister  Madison  ” — and  taking  the 
little  girl  on  her  knee  quietly  fed  her  with  the  peas 
— then  : “You  may  feel  safe  now,  gentlemen.  Who- 
ever eats  at  my  table,  invited  or  not  invited,  has 
my  best  care.  My  husband,  my  young  sons,  my 
brothers,  are  all  in  the  rebel  army  and  I pray  for 
their  success  and  your  defeat,  but  you  will  get  no 
harm  from  me.” 

“No,”  she  would  say.  “you  live  as  I have  to  en- 
joy the  peace  and  prosperity  they  suffered  so  much 
to  gain  for  us.” 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


S6 

Is  it  not  well  we  cannot  foresee  “ what  is  written  ? ” 
There  in  that  once  peaceful  Lexington,  General 
Lee  gave  his  last  sigh — Stonewall  Jackson  rests  in 
its  old  churchyard  — my  cadet  cousin  was  not  to 
know  the  heat  and  burden  of  the  day.  The  Mexi- 
can War  gave  active  service  to  the  army,  and  at 
Cherubusco  he  fell  fatally  wounded ; his  only 
wish  was  to  be  kept  alive  to  say  farewell  to  the 
uncle  who  had  been  to  him  father  and  friend  and 
military  model. 

The  bravest  are  the  tenderest 

As  with  Nelson,  a womanly-sweet  nature  welled 
up  at  the  last. 

“ Kiss  me,  uncle  Joe,”  said  the  dying  boy. 

That  uncle  has  seen  many  a battlefield  since,  and 
knows  the  bitterness  of  life;  but  never  a harder 
moment  came  to  General  Joe  Johnson  than  when 
he  saw  the  life  go  out  from  his  lovable  young 
nephew,  Preston  Johnson. 


CHAPTER  III. 


WASHINGTON  IN  PAST  DAYS. 

The  lovely  autumn  weather  made  a friendly 
“ half-season  ” for  what  was  the  resident 
world  of  Washington.  The  President  and  Cabinet 
lived  there  more  steadily  than  now,  and  the  Diplo- 
matic Corps  also.  And  there  were  then  many 
pleasant  families  who  were  entirely  unofficial  and 
who  came  there  as  families  are  doing  so  much 
now,  because  they  liked  the  fixed  order  of  society 
and  leisurely  life  of  Washington. 

We  had  grown  up  there  and  felt  it  even  more 
our  home  than  St.  Louis  — you  may  have  several 
houses  but  only  one  ever  feels  home,  and  this  had 
grown  to  be  that  to  us.  Our  house  had  been 
bought  by  my  father  from  a Boston  gentleman  who 
had  lived  much  in  London,  and  who  built  it 
with  thick  walls  and  spacious  rooms,  and  beauti- 
57 


58 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


fied  the  ground  in  the  rear,  where  grass  and  trees 
were  framed  in  by  high  thick  growths  of  iv}'^, 
and  scarlet-trumpet  creeper  which  covered  the 
garden  walls  and  stables.  The  winter  was  always 
so  crowded  by  ceremonious  visits,  dinners,  and 
such,  that  we  absolutely  needed  this  breathing 
time  of  preparation,  and  that  no  time  should  be 
lost  from  necessary  winter-work  of  society  all  our 
dresses  were  planned  and  each  detail  made  quite 
ready.  We  had  too,  long  days  of  horseback  and 
driving,  and  visits  to  friends  living  on  their  country 
places  near  by  in  Virginia  and  Maryland  — Arling- 
ton, now  a city  of  the  dead,  was  one  of  these 
places.  Then,  also,  we  had  the  lu.xury  of  home 
evenings,  when  friends  and  neighbors  could  come 
in  informally. 

My  father  believed  in  working  while  he  worked, 
and  resting  completely  when  at  rest.  His  library 
on  the  floor  above  was  his  working-place.  But 
after  we  assembled  in  the  drawing-room  before 
dinner,  and  until  we  separated  for  the  night,  it  was 
life  in  common  to  which  even  the  youngest  was 
expected  to  contribute.  No  vexatious  topic  was 


WASHINGTON  IN  PAST  DAYS. 


59 


to  be  introduced  — this  was  the  resting  time.  As 
children,  when  we  forgot  this  wholesome  regula- 
tion nothing  was  said  at  the  time  ; but  the  next 
day  we  dined  apart  in  the  library  and  lost  the  priv- 
ilege of  making  part  of  the  family  at  table  and 
in  the  evening  afterward. 

We  had  each  our  “ settlement  ” special  to  our- 
selves for  these  home  evenings.  On  one  side  of 
the  fire  in  the  large  drawing-room,  my  mother  had 
her  table  and  candles  with  her  knitting  work  and 
books.  Endless  fine  woollen  little  garments  grew 
under  her  beautiful  hands  without  seeming  to  re- 
quire attention.  My  father,  on  his  side,  had  a 
larger  table  with  the  book  then  in  reading  and 
the  evening  mail.  A tall  “ astral  ” lamp  suited  him 
— this  was  in  the  dark  days  before  gas  — but  the 
shining  silver  candlesticks  and  snuffer-tray  and 
the  tall  spermaceti  candles  always  kept  their  place 
for  my  mother’s  use.  We  four  sisters  adopted 
the  great  square  dining-table  for  our  shaded  lamp, 
our  work  baskets  and  portfolios,  and  there  our 
little  world  revolved. 

Music  was  a serious  study  among  us.  We  had 


6o 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME, 


the  happiness  of  one  noble  contralto,  and  in 
another  sister  such  gift  of  expression  on  the  piano 
that  it  afterward  made  her  a favorite  guest  of 
Rossini  when  she  lived  in  Paris.  At  his  Tuesday 
evenings  he  always  had  her  play  the  Sonate  Pathe- 
tique  and  the  “ Moonlight  Sonata,”  and  declared 
she  was  the  only  woman  he  had  ever  heard  who 
could  play  Beethoven’s  music. 

But  in  the  evenings  this  would  have  interfered 
with  talking,  and  it  was  not  the  correct  thing  then 
for  the  younger  part  of  a family  to  direct  the 
house.  If  any  one  came  in  who  loved  music,  and 
asked  for  it,  we  were  all  glad  enough  to  give  it. 
General  Dix,  then  Senator  from  New  York,  was 
our  near  neighbor,  as  was  also  the  Prussian  Minis- 
ter Baron  Van  Gerolt ; both  of  these  knew  music 
well  and  always  wanted  it  — while  Mr.  Buchanan 
and  Mr.  Sumner  also  near  neighbors  and  intimate 
friends,  would  have  been  greatly  put  out  by  the 
“ interruption.” 

General  Dix  had  a house  within  a few  doors  of 
us,  next  to  that  of  Frank  Key  — The  Star  Span- 
gled Banner — to  which  General  DLx’s  famous 


WASHINGTON  IN  PAST  DAYS.  6 1 

order,  “ If  any  man  attempts  to  haul  down  that 
flag,  shoot  him  on  the  spot,”  belongs  now  as  part. 
Each  of  these  had  delightful  families  with  whom 
our  friendships  were  for  life. 

Another  unusual  and  charming  family  living 
close  by,  were  the  Ellsworths,  who  were  “ friends 
indeed  ” to  Mr.  Morse  in  the  hard  days  when  he 
could  not  get  his  idea  of  the  electric  telegraph 
launched.  He  was  laughed  at  in  Congress  ; his 
money  gave  out ; his  health  was  going,  he  was 
so  worn  out  that  his  dead-white  face  and  bril- 
liant hollow  eyes  startled  one.  His  first  message, 
“ See  what  God  hath  wrought!''  was  to  the  young 
daughter  of  these  true  friends ; he  might  have 
added,  “ And  what  mountains  are  moved  by  the 
patient  tender  faith  of  women  ! ” For  these  ladies 
went  among  their  friends  whose  husbands  were  in 
Congress  and  made  them  understand,  while  they  in 
turn  brought  attention  from  those  who  could  decide 
on  “ An  expermtental  line  to  Baltimore.” 

Thirty  miles  — and  now  how  it  girdles  the  earth  ! 

The  Panama  Railroad  — the  overland  “ emigrant 
route  ” — the  surveys  for  railways  to  the  Pacific  — 


62 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


these  and  other  measures  then  far  in  advance  of 
the  public  mind  had  their  fireside  growth  among  us, 
and  brought  us  delightful  acquaintance  with  some 
men  of  wide  travel  ; among  them  “ Central-Amer- 
ica-Stevens  ” as  he  was  called  from  his  latest 
journey.  My  mother  had  greatly  liked  his  ear- 
lier books  on  Arabia  and  the  Holy  Land,  and 
when  the  Panama-business-talk  was  through  he 
would  go  from  my  father  to  my  mother  for  their 
pleasant  talk.  Coming  to  us,  later,  in  his  quick 
boyish  w'ay  and  demanding  tea  and  much  cake, 
and  telling  us  we  must  be  very  good  to  him  for  he 
was  to  be  sent  to  the  Isthmus  to  die  — as  he  did, 
from  too  long  stay  there  while  superintending  the 
building  of  the  Railroad. 

Much  of  this  talk  and  planning  was  done  in 
this  less  crow'ded  time  and  we  had  the  advan- 
tage of  hearing ; so  our  minds  grew  to  great 
ideas,  and  also  to  a comprehension  of  the  weary 
long  work  and  sublime  patience  invoh'ed  in  their 
carrying  out. 

As  this  was  before  sewing  machines  ( as  well  as 
before  telegraphs  and  gas)  we  had  always  some 


WASHINGTON  IN  PAST  DAYS. 


63 


handwork  that  was  taken  up  each  evening  — fine 
little  ruffies  of  linen  cambric,  “ edgings  ” to  cut  out 
the  points  and  scallops  from,  or  fine  flannels  to  be 
worked  in  scallops  — things  that  went  in  aid  to 
the  real  sewing  woman  ( our  human  machine),  and 
gave  us  use  for  our  hands  as  we  listened.  The 
old  mahogany  furniture  of  the  dining-room  was 
English  and  had  been  bought  with  the  house  ; the 
dancing  lights  reflected  in  its  dark  polished  sur- 
faces from  the  wood-fire,  the  shaded  lamp  and  the 
glitter  of  the  tea-equipage,  the  fragrance  of  the  large 
plants  of  rose-geranium,  and  the  delicate  bitter 
of  chrysanthemums,  all  blend  in  my  memory  with 
this  talk  of  the  tropical  work  of  the  Panama  Rail- 
road. 

In  this  settled  order  of  our  living,  how  could  I 
see  that  so  soon  after  I should  cross  that  deadly 
Isthmus  ? to  be  detained  many  weeks  by  illness  in 
Panama  where  Stevens  — dying,  as  he  had  known 
he  must  — came  daily,  as  he  said,  “ to  take  my  chill 
with  yotil’ 

How  reviving  to  us  was  even  the  memory  of  cool 
autumn  evenings  ! Palms,  and  waving  cocoa-trees, 


64 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


and  endless  summer-seas,  are  beautiful,  but  they 
grow  no  tap-root  in  the  affections  such  as  our 
changing  seasons  give.  That  “ social  life  ceases 
above  eighty  and  below  thirty  degrees  ” is  very 
much  of  a truth,  I think. 

General  Dix  was  an  artist  and  musician,  and  open 
to  every  good  and  beautiful  impression.  His 
home-life  was  singularly  attractive.  Only  their 
intimates  knew  the  charm  of  wit  and  fancy  in  Mrs. 
Dix  who  was  very  reserved  always.  I found  her 
rooms  so  filled  with  beautiful  flowers  one  day  ( in 
New  York  and  since  the  war)  that  she  answered 
my  look  — “No,  it  is  not  to  be  a party,  h\iX yester- 
day was  our  fiftieth  anniversatyf  — our  golden  wed- 
ding,”— and  with  her  still  handsome  face  lit  up 
with  gentle  fun,  “ We  have  had  our  celebration  and 
the  newspapers  have  not  found  it  out  ! ” 

We  each  and  all  liked  one  another  and  were 
really  intimate  in  those  old  Washington  days.  One 
evening  I went  in  to  tell  Mrs.  Dix,  who  had  taken 
much  interest  in  the  case,  that  a man  I was  greatly 
interested  for  could  not  get  his  pension  because  he 
had  not  been  a regularly  enlisted  soldier  when 


WASHINGTON  IN  PAST  DAYS. 


6S 


wounded.  The  man,  a Canadian  Frenchman,  had 
lost  the  use  of  a leg  from  a gunshot  wound  while 
on  an  expedition  under  General  (then  Lieutenant) 
Fremont. 

And  before  this  could  be  quite  cured  another 
accident  completely  disabled  the  other  leg.  fie 
suis pas  clereP  said  Alexis  to  me,  “ il faut  mourir  de 
faimP 

General  Dix  had  a visitor  who  did  not  make  any 
comment  on  our  talk  of  the  poor  Canadian,  but 
when  he  left  the  General  returned  from  the  hall  to 
say  that  that  gentleman  was  the  Chairman  of  the 
Committee  on  Pensions — Preston  King  of  New 
York ; that  he  had  asked  him  to  say  to  me  that  if 
I would  write  out  the  man’s  story,  briefly,  as  I had 
been  telling  it,  he  would  get  him  a pension.  And 
in  a few  days  it  was  all  done.  Because  he  was  not 
an  enlisted  man  it  was  made  a little  larger  than 
the  regulation  pension,  with  back-pay  from  the  date 
of  the  wound  — two  years. 

Lifted  from  despair,  with  some  hundreds  in  hand 
and  a secured  future,  Alexis  came  to  thank  me, 
swaying  on  his  crutches,  tears  covering  his  dark 


66 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


thin  face  : “ I cannot  kneel  to  you  — I have  no 
more  legs  — but  you  are  my  Sainte  Madonne." 

This  is  not  the  only  gracious  use  of  power  I have 
met  from  Congress.  The  early  friendships  made 
in  my  father’s  house  with  so  man  ■ men  of  position 
gave  me  the  position  to  speak,  and  on  several  occa- 
sions I have  had  the  quickest  kindest  attention, 
For  the  famine  in  the  South  after  the  war,  when 
a relief-ship  to  carry  supplies  was  needed  and  at 
once  granted  by  both  Houses.  I had  written  to 
one  Senator  and  one  Member  of  the  House,  and 
within  a few  days  we  had  the  ship,  and  with  it  the 
order  for  all  the  Freedman’s  Bureau  could  supply; 
and  again,  in  a case  of  long-delayed  justice  to  naval 
officers  who  had  resigned,  but  at  the  opening  of  the 
war  volunteered  for  service,  without  any  conditions, 
to  find  themselves  unfairly  placed  afterward.  This 
case  was  most  honorable  to  the  chairman  of  the 
committee  * having  charge  of  it,  but  it  is  too  long  to 
put  here.  Enough  that  my  appeal  to  his  sense  of 
right  brought  up  the  Bill  which  had  for  seven  years 
been  smothered  in  various  committees ; by  his  ac- 


♦General  N.  P.  Banks, 


WASHINGTON  IN  PAST  DAYS. 


67 


tive  work  and  the  help  ot  a charming  woman  who 
was  in  official  power,*  we  immediately  secured  full 
justice,  back  pay,  and  advanced  positions  to  over 
thirty  officers. 

Judge  Black  of  Pennsylvania,  who  had  a rough 
wit  but  a kind  nature,  said  once  to  me,  “ Your 
geese  are  all  swans.”  I told  him  he  knew  I could 
discriminate  and  had  my  own  sharp  experience 
also  as  guide.  But  there  is  so  much  told  of  what 
is  unlovely  and  of  bad  report  that  I for  one  prefer 
to  dwell  only  on  what  is  good.  In  great  trials  of 
our  country  — the  war,  the  yellow  fever  scourge  in 
the  South,  great  fires  and  wide  spread  calamities  — 
the  prompt  thorough  sustained  generosity  and  good 
feeling  of  our  people  as  a whole  has  been  something 
to  make  the  heart  glad  and  thankful.  And  Con- 
gress only  represents  these  people. 

So  I choose  to  be  a poor  artist  and  paint  as 
Queen  Elizabeth  ordered  — leaving  out  the  shadows. 


♦Mrs.  George  Robe.son. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


A ROYAL  VISITOR. 

• 

IT  was  during  one  of  these  resting  seasons  that 
we  had  a royal  visitor,  the  Prince  de  Joinvnlle, 
who  came  to  Washington  in  October  of  ’41  to  make 
his  respects  to  the  President  as  his  frigate  had 
touched  in  at  New  York.  As  the  son  of  the  “ King 
of  the  French,”  he  was  especially  welcomed ; and 
his  ship  and  himself  had  interested  the  public  from 
their  duty  of  bringing  home  from  St.  Helena  the 
remains  of  the  great  Napoleon. 

The  President  gave  for  him,  not  only  the  official 
dinner  of  ceremony,  but  a ball  also.  It  was  said 
there  was  Cabinet  remonstrance  against  dancing 
in  the  White  House  as  a “ want  of  dignity,”  but 
Mr.  Tyler  rightly  thought  a dance  would  best  please 
a young  navj'  man  and  a Frenchman,  and  we  had 

therefore  a charming  and  unusually  brilliant  ball. 
68 


A ROYAL  VISITOR. 


69 


All  our  army  and  navy  officers  were  in  uniform  as 
the  Prince  and  his  suite  wore  theirs,  and,  for  the  son 
of  a King,  the  Diplomatic  Corps  were  in  full  court 
dress. 

Writing  chiefly  for  girls  I may  be  permitted  to 
tell  that  on  that  occasion  I had  the  pleasure  of 
wearing  my  first  real  Paris  dress  — of  fine  muslin 
and  Valenciennes.  A cousin  from  New  Orleans 
whose  toilettes  were  prepared  for  a season  at  Sara- 
toga and  Newport,  had  been  with  us  when  her 
father  died;  and  as  was  the  Southern  fashion,  she 
gave  her  pretty  things  among  her  friends. 

Mrs.  Tyler  was  an  invalid  and  saw  only  her  old 
friends ; but  Mrs.  Robert  Tyler,  the  wife  of  the 
eldest  son,  was  every  way  fitted  to  be  the  lady  of  the 
White  House.  From  both  her  parents,  especially 
her  witty  and  beautiful  mother,  she  had  society 
qualifications  and  tact,  while  the  President’s  young- 
est daughter  was  beautiful  as  well  as  gentle  and 
pleasant. 

Mr.  Webster  as  Secretary  of  State,  was,  next  to 
the  President,  the  chief  person.  For  fine  appear- 
ance, for  complete  fitness  for  that  representative 


70 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


position,  both  Mrs.  Webster  and  himself  have  never 
been  surpassed. 

The  Prince  was  tall  and  fine  looking,  and  Miss 
Tyler  and  himself  opened  the  ball,  while  those  of 
us  who  knew  French  well  were  assigned  to  his 
officers. 

We  had  remained  in  the  oval  reception  room 
until  the  company  was  assembled,  and  then,  the 
President  leading,  the  whole  foreign  party  were 
taken  through  all  the  drawing-rooms,  ending  by 
our  taking  places  for  the  Quadrille  d'honneur  in 
the  East  Room ; that  ceremony  over,  dancing  be- 
came general,  and  we  were  free  to  choose  our 
partners. 

The  Prince  must  have  had  pleasant  memories  of 
his  American  visit  for,  later,  he  came  back  bring- 
ing a young  son,  Pierre  de  Penthievre,  to  our  Naval 
Academy  at  Annapolis,  where,  I have  heard  both 
foreign  and  home  authorities  on  education  say,  the 
course  of  training  was  uncommonly  full,  useful  and 
developing. 

There  the  lad  was  promptly  re-christened  by  the 
midshipmen,  Peter  Ponteever,  and  became  a favorite. 


A ROYAL  VISITOR. 


7* 


On  one  of  their  summer  cruises  they  went  to  Lis- 
bon, where  his  cousin,  the  King  of  Portugal,  had 
him  out  for  a week’s  visit ; but  the  little  duke  came 
back  before  it  was  half  over,  liking  best  the  friendly 
equality  of  his  cadet  comrades.  This  consequence 
of  American  education  was,  no  doubt,  one  result  his 
father  intended ; for  that  branch  of  the  Orleans 
family  understand  real  education.  The  influence 
of  one  woman  has  told  for  good  on  them  for  more 
than  a hundred  years.  When  Madame  de  Genlis 
took  the  post  of  instructress  in  the  family  of  that 
Duke  of  Orleans  who  voted  for  the  execution  of  his 
cousin,  Louis  the  Sixteenth,  a new  era  began  for 
them,  and  they  have  been  the  wiser  and  better  all 
through  for  the  broader  education  she  directed. 

When  Louis  Philippe  thought  to  please  the 
French,  and  rouse  their  feelings  by  having  the 
body  of  Napoleon  brought  to  France  to  be  laid  in 
the  midst  of  his  battle-worn  veterans  at  the  Hotel 
des  Invalides,  he  succeeded  ; but  in  the  way  Shakes- 
peare says  the  engineer  may  succeed  with  his  own 
petard.  His  “ act  of  magnanimity,”  so  far  from 
making  him  stronger,  only  supplied  a fresh  strength 


72 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


against  him,  and  the  French  made  another  of  those 
radical  changes  of  government  of  which  they  have 
averaged  one  in  every  ten  years  for  the  century 
we  have  been  an  “ Experiment  in  Government,”  as 
they  used  to  say  in  Europe. 

Ready-made  phrases  are  handy  for  people  who 
do  not  do  their  own  thinking,  but  a little  examina- 
tion will  show  these  do  not  always  fit.  That  phrase 
of  an  “ experiment  in  government  ” has  a twin  in 
one  on  our  foreign  appointments ; that  they  make 
us  the  “ laughing-stock  of  Europe.”  Look  into  this 
for  yourselves  and  you  will  find  among  our  repre- 
sentatives, Franklin  and  Monroe,  Clay  and  Adams, 
and  Buchanan,  and  the  dignified  King,  of  Georgia, 
and  Rush  of  honorable  Philadelphia  name,  and 
John  Randolph  and  Washington  Irving,  and  Ever- 
ett and  Motley,  and  many  another  less  known. 
Science,  patriotism,  genius  and  character,  and  keen 
honor  and  devotion  to  their  countr}'  have  done  us 
honor  abroad.  We  know  all  about  the  exceptions 
and  that  they  are  queer,  and  sometimes  wrong,  but 
do  foreign  countries  always  send  us  their  best? 

A diplomatic  post  had  really  great  importance 


A ROYAL  VISITOR. 


73 


before  steam  and  electricity  brought  the  heads  of 
nations  so  near  each  other  that  no  misunderstand- 
ing could  grow.  Now,  it  is  chiefly  useful  to  prevent 
misunderstandings  and  to  keep  up  the  sort  of  polite 
interest  which  only  comes  from  constant  personal 
intercourse. 

Both  France  and  Belgium  were  poorly  repre- 
sented at  the  time  of  this  visit  of  the  French  Prince, 
so  that  there  was  no  general  entertainment  given  by 
either  of  their  ministers.  One,  the  French,  was  so 
occupied  in  the  care  of  his  health  that  he  thought 
only  of  that  — he  had  brought  a physician  as  part 
of  his  legation,  and  never  went  out  without  him, 
not  even  to  visit.  As  the  King  of  Belgium  was 
brother-in-law  to  the  Prince,  some  attention  was 
due  from  the  Belgian  minister ; but  he  was  the 
“ laughing  stock  ” of  Washington  from  his  stingi- 
ness — not  economy,  but  mean  savings.  His  chief 
end  and  aim  was  to  save  money.  He  accepted  all 
invitations  to  dinner,  but  when  he  had  to  invite 
people  the  dinner  would  be  all  right,  but  he  would 
tell  the  price  of  different  things,  and  mourn  that  of 
all  that  food  none  would  be  properly  saved  or  it 


74 


SOUVENIRS  OE  MV  TIME. 


would  last  him  a weekl  He  grieved  over  his  col- 
ored cook  who  would  not  take  care  of  the  small 
bits  of  meat  — “ she  feeds  chickens  on  good 
pieces  that  would  make  croquettes!”  Naturally 
the  woman  had  no  interest  in  any  savings.  She 
was  a slave  and  her  owner  received  her  earnings; 
why  should  she  take  care  of  two  men’s  interests  ? 

He  may  have  had  fine  qualities,  but  I never 
heard  of  them.  He,  as  well  as  some  others,  looked 
upon  the  United  States  as  an  inferior  sort  of 
country  where  no  restraint  need  be  put  upon  their 
real  nature,  and  his  ruling  passion  was  the  love  of 
money ; not  “ for  the  glorious  privilege  of  being 
independent,”  but  for  its  own  sake. 

His  Secretary'  of  Legation  * was  in  complete  con- 
trast, and  an  honor  to  his  country  and  of  use  to  it, 
and  to  ours  also,  by  his  intelligent  comprehension 
of  our  wonderful  resources  for  emigration.  His 
family  were  of  governing  position,  and  he  was  to  fit 
himself  for  high  trusts  by  knowledge  of  many  men 
in  many  lands.  He  only  knew  book-English  when 
he  arrived,  but  as  soon  as  his  English  should  im- 
prove enough  he  was  to  go  and  investigate  for  his 


• Baron  Von  Der  Straiten. 


A ROYAL  VISirOR. 


75 


government  the  ways  of  living  and  resources  of  the 
farming  people  in  our  Western  States  and  Terri- 
tories, with  a view  to  future  emigration  from  Bel- 
gium. My  father  took  much  interest  in  aiding  him 
in  this,  and  for  himself  he  became  one  of  our  most 
welcome  intimates. 

It  pleased  us  all  that  he  constantly  spoke  of  his 
mother  who  evidently  was  his  friend  and  compan- 
ion (he  was  in  the  early  twenties). 

Furnished  with  many  letters  of  introduction,  he 
went  for  the  summer  and  autumn  on  his  journey 
of  observation  through  what  was  then  the  far  West ; 
Indiana,  Illinois,  Missouri,  etc.,  etc.  He  had  al- 
ready become  assured  that  plenty  governed,  but  he 
waited  to  report  what  he  should  actually  see. 

When  he  was  back  in  the  winter  a new  world 
had  been  revealed  to  him  — Our  New  World. 

He  had  gone  from  surprise  to  surprise.  He  had 
asked  to  stay  in  the  family  of  a farmer  that  he  might 
see  the  harvesting  and  gain  the  English  of  farm- 
ing uses.  It  was  like  being  the  guest  of  a king,  he 
said  ; money  he  found  would  be  an  insult.  He  had 
to  make  it  a visit. 


76 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


It  was  in  one  of  the  free  States  where  all  worked, 
“yet  they  talked  politics,”  he  said;  “the  farmer’s 
wife  even.  She  also  made  excellent  bread  and  of 
so  many  kinds  ! Of  wheat  and  of  maize,  and  many 
fanciful  cakes  with  sugar  and  eggs  and  spices,  and 
always  buckets  of  milk  in  addition  to  great  tins  of 
tea  and  coffee ! And  three  times  a day  meat  ! 
And  not  only  beef,  but  game  and  poultr)'  in  pro- 
fusion, and  orchards  of  peaches  and  apples,  while 
potatoes  and  cabbages  were  of  course  and  in  end- 
less profusion.” 

“ I dared  not  write  all  this  to  my  mother,”  he 
said.  “ I did  not  at  all  write  in  detail  to  my  gov- 
ernment ; I reserved  my  facts  for  my  return.  But 
I wrote  my  mother  of  my  life  on  this  farm,  of  its 
prodigal  abundance  and  that  everywhere  was  the 
same  when  a little  time  and  industry  had  brought 
out  the  return  for  labor.  I did  not  venture  to  tell 
her  of  the  meat  three  times  a day,  but  put  it  three 
times  a week.  And  she  wrote  me  imploring  I would 
be  careful  and  not  let  my  youth  and  the  pleasure  of 
novelty  carry  me  into  wild  generalization — but 
to  be  calm  and  exaggerate  nothing.  What  shall  I 


A ROYAL  VISITOR. 


77 


say,”  he  laughed ; “ how  can  I make  even  my  mother 
believe  about  the  bacon  and  cheese  and  bread  al- 
ways there  for  every  one  — and  the  sweetmeats  and 
honey!  I could  not  believe  you  myself  when  you 
told  me  of  this ; how  can  they  believe  who  know 
how  many  of  our  people  get  meat  on  feast  days 
only  ? ” 


CHAPTER  V. 


BARON  VON  GEROLT. 

Much  of  the  soUcl  faith  in  our  country  which 
made  Germany  take  our  war  bonds  is 
doubtless  due  to  the  long  residence  among  us  of 
Baron  von  Gerolt.  Humboldt,  who  was  his  friend, 
had  chosen  him  for  minister  to  Mexico,  where  he 
was  for  many  years,  coming  from  there  to  us ; also 
he  was  honored  by  close  relations  with  his  King. 
I think  it  was  twenty-five  years  the  Baron  lived  in 
Washington  — studying  our  countr}',  its  resources, 
its  representative  men,  and  becoming  from  long  con- 
viction our  fast  friend.  When  so  many  reported  to 
their  governments  that  the  “ Union  was  completely 
ended,”  he  knew  it  could  not  be  so,  and  held  fast  to 
the  faith  for  which  his  own  knowledge  gave  him 
reason.  He  gave  proof  of  this  faith  by  investing 
all  his  resources  in  our  war  bonds  when  they  were 
78 


BARON  VON  GEROLT. 


79 


first  issued  and  were  very  low;  and  when  he  was 
retired,  after  a lifetime  of  service,  these  bonds  had 
so  risen  in  value  that  they  made  him  a really  wealthy 
man.  He  too  had  a delightful  family,  his  wife  be- 
ing a German  lady  of  the  best  high-type  of  home 
and  society  woman.  Theirs  was  an  elegant  and 
hospitable  home,  and  their  long  residence  enabled 
them  to  form  lasting  friendships  — one  of  the  strong- 
est and  most  valued  of  which  was  with  Mr.  Sumner. 
So  many  of  the  foreign  ministers  of  my  time  were 
either  not  married  or  had  married  American  or  Eng- 
lish women,  that  a genuine  representative  woman 
of  a foreign  country  had  become  unusual  in  Wash- 
ington. My  old  friend  Bodisco  lived  out  his  days 
happily  with  his  American  wife  and  children,  dying 
and  being  buried  in  Georgetown.  His  successor 
also  married  an  American ; the  wives  of  three  suc- 
cessive French  ministers  were  one  from  Tennessee, 
another  from  Washington,  and  the  third  from  Bos- 
ton. The  Brazilian  and  Portuguese  ministers  were 
married  to  English  ladies,  and  the  wife  of  the  Span- 
ish minister  was  Scotch  ; and  this  last  was  a great 
gain  for  the  present  royal  family  of  Spain.  She 


8o 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


was  made  Directress  of  the  household  of  the  eldest 
daughter  of  Queen  Isabella,  and  had  a shaping 
hand  in  the  education  of  all  the  children  — includ- 
ing the  present  king  of  Spain.  Mr.  Fox,  the  Eng- 
lish minister  of  my  early  days,  cared  for  nothing 
but  cards  — he  slept  by  day  and  played  all  night. 
Mr.  Pakenham,  who  came  after,  was  also  unmarried ; 
but  he  made  his  house  worthy  of  his  position  and 
it  was  the  headquarters  of  refined  pleasures  in  music 
and  tableaux  and  many  occasions  of  elegant  gaye- 
ties. 

Succeeding  Mr.  Pakenham  came  a fine  and  thor- 
ough English  legation.  Coming  over  direct  in  a man- 
of-war  with  the  whole  legation,  and  invited  friends, 
with  servants  and  all  household  belongings  com- 
plete, only  dropping  anchor  in  the  Potomac,  Sir 
Henry  Bulwer  represented  in  everyway  his  countr\^ 
He  was  an  invalid,  but  one  of  England’s  most  capable 
diplomats.  His  nephew,  a delightful  lad  of  nine- 
teen, was  attached  to  the  legation  — this  was  the 
young  author  of  Lucille,  and  known  everywhere  since 
as  “ Owen  Meredith  ” ev'en  better  than  as  the  son 
of  the  Bulwer,  or  as  Viceroy  of  India. 


BARON  VON  GEROLT, 


8l 


Lady  Bulwer  had  a greater  name  still,  for  she 
was  niece  to  the  Duke  of  Wellington.  She  had 
grown  up  in  Paris  where  her  father,  Lord  Cowley, 
was  for  many  years  the  English  embassador.  Lady 
Bulwer  knew  music  well.  She  had  delightful  musi- 
cal parties.  It  was  a charming  house  where  talent 
embellished  station  and  attracted  the  best  in  soci- 
ety. At  one  of  her  Tuesdays  I heard  a New  York 
man  telling  her  what  they  could  show  her  when  she 
came  to  New  York  — “ and  the  dressing  will  aston- 
ish you.” 

Lady  Bulwer  had  a specially  languid  manner 
(only  manner  though).  She  looked  up  at  him  — then 
in  her  slow  clear  voice  : ‘■‘■1  am  astonished  already. 
Your  ladies  here  bewilder  me  by  their  many  changes 
of  dresses.  In  Paris  one  has  dresses  for  different 
occasions,  and  one  wears  them  while  they  are  fresh. 
But  you  have  so  many  changes  — ” and  she  sank 
back  as  though  wearied  by  their  memory. 

The  accession  of  a new  monarch  is  always  made 
known,  officially,  through  the  resident  minister 
representing  his  country,  which  is  quite  sufficient 
on  account  of  our  great  distance  from  Europe ; 


82 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


there,  however,  the  more  marked  formality  of  a 
special  envoy  is  made.  This  is  in  the  same  spirit 
that  we  make  a personal  as  well  as  a written  invi- 
tation where  we  wish  to  show  respect. 

When  the  present  King  of  Belgium  succeeded  to 
his  father  (near  the  close  of  our  war)  he  added  this 
courtesy  of  a Special  Envoy  to  us  also  — which 
was  particularly  well  done  in  view  of  all  the  dis- 
turbed relations  created  by  the  war. 

This  Envoy  we  had  known  when  as  a young 
man  he  had  been  attached  to  the  Belgian  Lega- 
tion in  Washington. 

On  his  return  homewards  through  New  York  he 
came  to  see  me,  glad,  he  said,  to  meet  some  one 
of  the  old  society  of  Washington ; he  had  been 
saddened  by  finding  the  old  pleasant  friendly  soci- 
ety of  Washington  so  completely  dispersed  by  the 
war,  and  he  stayed  long  talking  over  those  times. 
He  could  not  come  back  to  dine  with  us  that  day, 
being  already  engaged,  but  did  so  the  ne.vt,  as  the 
morning  following  he  was  to  sail. 

At  dinner  the  ne.xt  day,  he  was  greatly  inter- 
ested in  talking  over  the  newer  conditions  of  our 


BARON  VON  GEROLT. 


83 


country  since  he  had  known  it.  Then,  the  first 
explorations  to  the  Rocky  Mountains  were  only 
begun  — now,  Bierstadt,  whom  I had  asked  to 
meet  him,  was  just  in  from  one  of  his  sketching 
tours  in  those  mountains.  We  were  pretty  much 
a party  of  travellers  ; all  at  table  had  travelled 
much  in  America  as  well  as  Europe,  and  two  of 
the  ladies  — both  of  them  young,  beautiful  and 
unusually  agreeable  women  — had  been  with  their 
husbands  in  India.  All  were  capable  of  compre- 
hending not  only  the  progressing  growth  of  the 
country  but  also  its  future  development. 

What  most  impressed  the  Baron  was  the  reason- 
ing, orderly  manner  with  which  our  people  were 
accepting  great  changes. 

A telegram  was  brought  in  which  the  General 
read,  then  sent  round  to  me ; I gave  it  to  Baron 
Beaulieu,  telling  him  there  was  another  change. 
It  was  from  a friend  in  Congress  to  say  the  vote 
had  just  been  taken  on  the  Fifteenth  Amendment 
and  it  had  passed. 

There  was  wide  difference  of  opinion,  and  feel- 
ing, among  those  present  as  to  the  result  of  the 


84 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


measure ; but  the  Baron,  who  was  at  first  speech- 
less from  the  surprise  of  what  he  read,  asked  that 
he  might  keep  that  despatch  to  carr)-  back  with 
him  and  show  to  his  King  as  part  of  the  astonish- 
ing quiet  and  swiftness  with  which  radical  changes 
are  made  here. 

I had  been  out  the  morning  before  when  the 
Baron  came  and  found  him  waiting  for  me,  as  he 
had  been  told  where  I had  gone  and  must  be  at 
home  now  very  soon ; his  time  was  so  short  he 
would  not  risk  a second  failure  to  meet  me  and  so 
waited.  After  his  steamer  had  sailed  I received 
a note  he  had  left  for  me,  saying  how  agreeable 
had  been  the  renewal  of  old  acquaintance  and  the 
whole  visit  to  our  house,  and  enclosing  “ a little 
offering”  as  he  called  it,  but  it  was  a generous 
one,  for  the  charitable  institution  (the  Nursery 
and  Child’s  Hospital)  at  which  I had  been  the 
morning  he  called.  His  wife,  he  said,  was  often 
the  almoner  of  her  friend.  Mile,  de  Rothschild, 
and  knew  the  good  even  small  sums  might  do. 

The  repose  of  “ a place  for  ever}-thing,  and 
ever}’tliing  in  its  place  ” is  felt  in  the  fixed  frame- 


BARON  VON  GEROLT. 


8S 


work  of  society  in  Washington  where  a long-estab- 
lished usage  governs  and  makes  order.  Else- 
where local  ideas  give  sometimes  strange  results 
— the  strangest  being  where  money  alone  dictates. 
But  the  national  capital  has  as  its  society-head  the 
one  elected  to  be  the  head  of  the  whole  country  — 
the  Cabinet,  the  Supreme  Court  and  Senate  and 
House,  with  the  Diplomatic  Corps  and  heads  of 
the  Army  and  Navy  make  the  fixed  framework 
which  secures  distinction  of  position. 

Of  course  the  addition  of  attractive  personal 
qualities  and  the  advantages  of  wealth  add  to  this, 
but  they  cannot  confer  it,  nor  can  the  lack  of  them 
lessen  the  official  value  of  those  not  having  them. 

An  introduction  into  society  there  by  any  one 
in  position  opens  the  whole  circle.  Even  where 
such  position  is  a thing  of  the  past  it  has  its  old 
rights,  and  a most  agreeable  feature  — peculiar  to 
Washington  society  — is  this  recognition  of  past 
or  inherited  social  importance. 

This  unwritten  law  was  framed  not  without 
thought  and  trouble,  but  all  had  been  settled  long 
before  my  time.  There  still  lingered  however 


86 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


stories  of  rebelling  women — one,  of  the  spirited 
and  charming  Mrs.  Livingstone  of  New  Orleans. 
Accustomed  to  the  high  distinction  of  her  husband, 
Edward  Livingstone,  she  could  not  reconcile  her- 
self to  the  position  of  Attorney  General  being  at 
the  foot  of  the  Cabinet. 

She  did  not  feel  like  the  Scotch  noble  — “ where 
the  MacGregor  sits,  there  is  the  head  of  the  table.” 

‘■‘'Madame  la  mmistre  (TEtat”  and  Madame  of 
the  National  Treasury,  “ Madatne  de  la  Guerre^'  and 
Madame  de  la  Marine^'’’  too,  she  admitted,  repre- 
sented interests  important  enough  to  precede  her; 
but  “ to  walk  ifi  to  dinner  behind  Madame  PozE- 
OFFEESE  ! — jamais  ! ” 

But  so  it  stands ; and  the  Law  which  is  master 
of  all  the  country  still  follows  after  all  Depart- 
ments, even  the  Post  Office. 

What  is  not  fi.xed,  but  ought  to  be,  is  the  secure 
continuing  in  office  of  all  officials  connected  with 
the  working  of  the  Government.  This  is  not  the 
place  for  so  large  and  serious  a subject.  But 
only  those  who  have  lived  in  Washington  through 
many  changes  of  administration  can  realize  the 


BARON  VON  GEROLT. 


87 


sad  wrong  of  holding  office  only  at  the  will  of  a 
President. 

My  father’s  efforts  to  remedy  this  — begun  as 
far  back  as  1825  — are  among  my  many  sources 
of  pride  in  his  wise,  unselfish,  public  life. 

As  it  is  now,  with  each  change  of  administration 
comes  a panic  as  distressing  as  those  which  cause 
such  griefs  and  disheartenings  in  business  com- 
munities— and,  during  all  the  time,  create  a smoth- 
ered atmosphere  of  fear  and  suppressed  manliness 
which  is  not  American. 

You  boys  who  read  these  pages  will  think  of 
this,  for  soon  you  will  be  men,  and  then  your  intel- 
ligent knowledge  of  your  country’s  business  will 
give  value  to  your  vote.  It  will  certainly  add 
vastly  to  the  sum  of  family  happiness  for  men  to 
know  that  their  good  behavior  and  efficiency 
secure  permanence  in  Government  employment. 

And  I,  for  one,  hold  that  whoever  can  give 
happiness  enjoys  a divine  privilege. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


FAMILY  LIFE  OF  THE  WHITE  HOUSE. 

MONG  my  earliest  memories  of  the  White 


House  is  the  impression  that  I was  to  keep 
still  and  not  fidget,  or  show  pain,  even  if  General 
Jackson  twisted  his  fingers  a little  too  tightly  in 
my  curls ; he  liked  my  father  to  bring  me  when 
they  had  their  talks,  and  would  keep  me  by  him, 
his  hand  on  my  head  — forgetting  me  of  course  in 
the  interest  of  discussion  — so  that  sometimes,  his 
long,  bony  fingers  took  an  unconscious  grip  that 
would  make  me  look  at  my  father,  but  give  no 
other  sign.  He  was  sure  to  praise  me  afterward  if 
I did  not  wince,  and  would  presently  contrive  my 
being  sent  off  to  the  nursery  for  a play  with  the 
Donaldson  children. 

We  would  find  the  President  in  an  upper  room, 
where  the  tall  south  windows  sent  in  long  breadths 


88 


FAMILY  LIFE  OF  THE  WHITE  HOUSE,  89 

of  sunshine  ; but  his  big  rocking-chair  was  always 
drawn  close  to  the  large  wood-fire.  Wounds  and 
rheumatism  went  for  much  in  the  look  of  pain  fixed 
on  his  thin  face,  but  the  true  instinct  of  a child  felt 
the  sadness  and  loneliness  that  made  him  so  gen- 
tle, and  so  pleased  to  have  a bright  unconscious 
affectionate  little  life  near  him. 

I knew  he  was  very  sorry  because  his  wife  had 
died ; after  they  reached  Washington  — just  before 
he  was  inaugurated,  and  I knew  they  had  had  a 
long  and  happy  life  together.  More  than  this  I did 
not  know,  for  children  were  kept  young  then. 

Theirs  had  been  an  unusually  harmonious  life. 
Like  many  a woman  “ with  nothing  remarkable  in 
her,”  she  had  the  enviable  gift  of  making  life  sweet 
and  reposing  to  all  about  her — she  was  eminently 
a “gentle  ” woman. 

She  had  lived  always  among  people  who  knew 
her  and  loved  her  and  in  the  profound  retirement 
of  Southern  country  life.  Except  the  one  episode 
of  a cruel  husband,  from  whom  she  had  been  di- 
vorced young,  all  her  days  had  been  peace  and 
honor.  Into  this  seclusion  and  peace  came  the 


go 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


concentrated  fire  of  one  of  the  most  savage  of  our 
political  campaigns,  the  most  venomous  part  being 
aimed  at  Mrs.  Jackson  herself. 

My  mother  had  her  prejudices  against  divorce, 
but  at  my  father’s  wish  went  with  him  to  call  on 
Mrs.  Jackson  when  the  General  and  herself  ar- 
rived in  Washington.  The  sight  of  the  shrinking, 
failing  woman  appealed  at  once  to  larger  feelings, 
and  my  mother  went  often  to  see  Mrs.  Jackson 
during  the  brief  remainder  of  her  life. 

She  was  glad  to  die,  she  said : the  General  would 
miss  her,  but  if  she  had  lived  she  might  be  in  the 
way  of  his  new  life  — “ she  could  not  share  it  after 
those  cruel  things  said  against  her.” 

It  was  Desdemona’s  piteous  “ Am  I that  thing  ! ” 

We  women  \\nll  not  feel  General  Jackson  the 
less  a good  man  that  in  dying  he  answered  his 
clerg}-man  — yes,  that  he  was  ready,  that  he  asked 
forgiveness  as  he  forgave  all  — “ All  e.xcept  those 
who  slandered  my  Rachel  to  death.” 

So  this  lonely,  high-natured  old  man  gathered 
about  him  those  his  wife  loved  — her  nephew  and 
his  wife  and  their  children.  There  were  cliildren’s 


GENERAL  JACKSON. 


f 


FAMILY  LIFE  OF  THE  WHITE  HOUSE. 


93 


voices  in  the  White  House  ; birth  and  death  were 
there,  for  Mrs.  Donaldson  died  during  the  second 
term ; a refined  Tennessee  woman  who  made  the 
President’s  house  hospitable  and  homelike. 

This  was  by  no  means  so  easy  then  as  now.  The 
house  was  damply-cold,  and  the  whole  expense  of 
warming  and  lighting  it  came  upon  the  President. 
For  some  time  back  this  has  been  otherwise  pro- 
vided for.  Now  but  few  expenses  fall  upon 
the  President.  All  the  present  well-ordered  ser- 
vice of  the  house,  as  well  as  its  warming  and  light- 
ing, the  fine  kitchen-gardens,  etc.,  the  forage  and 
stable  service,  are  provided  for  with  many  added 
things,  which  fully  double  the  present  salary  of 
fifty  thousand  dollars.  But  when  it  was  only  the 
twenty-five  thousand  dollars  with  every  possible 
demand  to  be  met  from  that,  it  was  a heavy  pull. 

Mr.  Van  Buren  had  the  glass  screen  put  quite 
across  that  windy  entrance  hall,  and  great  wood 
fires  made  a struggle  against  the  chill  of  the  house, 
but  it  was  so  badly  underdrained  that  in  all  long 
rains  the  floors  of  kitchens  and  cellars  were  actu- 
ally under  water. 


94 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


No  summer  residence  was  then  provided  for  the 
President.  They  stayed  on  through  heat  and  cold. 
Mr.  Fillmore,  after  the  death  of  President  Taylor, 
was  the  fi^t  to  avoid  the  house  where  the  marshes 
between  it  and  the  river  made  malaria  inevitable  ; 
he  rented  and  lived  in  a pretty  place  on  George- 
town Heights,  known  as  “ the  English  cottage.” 

But  with  all  drawbacks,  those  ladies  of  the  White 
House  made  it  a succession  of  friendly  dignified 
and  honorable  memories  for  those  who  knew  them 
there. 

There  was  of  course  the  routine  of  formal  din- 
ners and  the  many  informal  ones  to  more  intimate 
friends.  Mr.  Van  Buren  especially  gave  channing 
little  dinners,  always  in  the  more  homelike  family 
dining-room.  The  regular  receptions,  both  day 
and  evening,  were  for  ceremonious  visits ; but  on 
any  evening  the  family  of  the  President  was  to  be 
found  at  home  — with  their  needlework  and  books 
and  intimate  friends  — in  short,  living  as  other  peo- 
ple do. 

I only  write  here  of  those  up  to  ’55.  I had  a 
long  illness  then  and  afterwards  only  went  back 


FAMILY  LIFE  OF  THE  WHITE  HOUSE.  95 


to  Washington  to  see  my  father  from  time  to  time 
— not  staying  there  again  at  any  time  over  a few 
days  until  in  ’70. 

President  Jackson  at  first  had  suppers  at  the  gen- 
eral receptions,  but  this  had  to  be  given  up.  He 
had  them  however  for  his  invited  receptions  of  a 
thousand  and  more.  It  was  his  wish  I should 
come  to  one  of  these  great  supper  parties,  and  I 
have  the  beautiful  recollection  of  the  whole  stately 
house  adorned  and  ready  for  the  company — (for 
I was  taken  early  and  sent  home  after  a very  short 
stay) — the  great  wood  fires  in  every  room,  the  im- 
mense number  of  wax-lights  softly  burning,  the 
stands  of  camelias  and  laurestina  banked  row 
upon  row,  the  glossy  dark  green  leaves  bringing 
into  full  relief  their  lovely  wax-like  flowers ; after 
going  all  through  this  silent  waiting  fairyland,  we 
were  taken  to  the  state  dining-room  where  was  the 
gorgeous  supper-table  shaped  like  a horseshoe, 
and  covered  with  every  good  and  glittering  thing 
French  skill  could  devise,  and  at  either  end  was  a 
monster  salmon  in  waves  of  meat  jelly. 

And  then  I was  sent  home  with  a big  supply  of 


96 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


good  things  and  flowers  — willing  to  go,  for  the 
coming  of  many  people  broke  the  charm  of  the 
silent  beautiful  rooms. 

In  other  places  “ business  is  business ; ” but 
apart  from  the  morning  hours  at  the  Capitol  and 
the  official  work  at  the  Departments,  in  Washing- 
ton pleasure  is  business  — but  pleasure  is  made  to 
serve  business  too. 

So  many  interests  centre  there  with  important 
men  having  charge  of  them  — eager  naturally  to  get 
through  and  return  home  to  their  regular  affairs, 
but  from  necessity  obliged  to  wait  for  attention  — 
that  the  later  part  of  the  days  and  the  evenings 
are  but  the  continuing  of  often  serious  work. 

“ Come  home  with  me  and  we  will  talk  it  over 
at  dinner,”  is  a common  answer  even  now  from 
men  in  position  whose  mornings  belong  to  official 
duties. 

In  the  more  leisurely  and  more  simply  hospit- 
able earlier  time  this  was  a matter  of  course,  and 
to  have  others  comprehend  equally,  some  few  nec- 
essary men  would  be  asked  to  meet  them  in  the 
same  informal  manner.  Then  there  were  always 


FAMILY  LIFE  OF  THE  WHITE  HOUSE,  97 


passing  through  old  friends  or  their  children,  or 
strangers  with  introductions  with  only  a day  or  so 
to  stay.  Out  of  this  has  grown  a more  easy  and 
graceful  habit  of  impromptu  and  small  dinners 
than  I have  met  elsewhere.  Now  that  its  original 
plan  is  carried  out,  Washington  shews  for  what  it  is 
— the  drawing-room  of  the  nation.  In  early  spring 
when  everywhere  the  clear  sun  shines  only  on  wide 
clean  streets  with  beautiful  bordering  avenues  of 
healthy  trees,  and  honeysuckle  and  roses  and  many 
sweet  things  garland  the  railings  and  houses,  it  is  a 
joy  to  go  about  in  the  fresh  fragrance. 

We  did  not  have  all  that  in  the  old  day,  but  the 
germ  of  all  was  there.  Especially  the  ever-ready 
courtesy  and  hospitality. 

This  was  made  easy  in  one  direction  by  well- 
ordered  and  undisturbed  households.  In  our  own 
house  although  the  servants  were  all  freed,  or 
born  free,  there  was  no  thought  of  change.  It 
was  a comfort  never  to  have  strangers  about  one 
at  home. 

And  there  have  always  been  admirable  French 
cooks  in  Washington.  The  foreign  ministers  all 


98 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


brought  them  ; when  they  returned  — if  not  sooner 
— the  cooks  deserted  and  set  up  in  business  for 
themselves.  These  not  only  went  out  to  prepare 
fine  dinners,  but  took  as  pupils  young  slaves  sent 
by  families  to  be  instructed.  In  that  way  a work- 
ing knowledge  of  good  cookery  of  the  best  French 
school  became  diffused  among  numbers  of  the  col- 
ored people  — and  for  cookery  they  have  natural 
aptitude.  Wormley,  whose  hotel  in  Washington 
was  famous  and  who  has  lately  died  leaving  over 
a million  of  property,  owed  his  success  to  such 
training,  as  well  as  to  his  business  capacity  which 
turned  it  to  profit. 

Mr.  Van  Buren  brought  over  from  London,  where 
he  had  been  our  minister,  a fine  chef^  and  his  din- 
ners were  as  good  and  delicate  as  possible ; but 
his  was  a formal  household  — none  of  the  large 
hospitality  of  General  Jackson  who  held  it  as  “ the 
People’s  House  ” and  himself  as  their  steward ; 
and  still  less  of  the  “open- house”  of  the  Tyler 
regime  where  there  were  many  young  people  who 
kept  to  their  informal,  cheery  Virginia  ways. 

Mr.  Tyler’s  youngest  daughter  was  a beautiful 


FAMILY  LIFE  OF  THE  WHITE  HOUSE.  99 


girl,  and  her  sister-in-law,  Mrs.  Robert  Tyler,  was 
unusually  well  qualified  by  birth  and  training  for 
her  position  as  presiding  over  the  White  House. 

Later,  Mrs.  Tyler  having  died,  the  President 
married  a young  wife  from  New  York.  Her  father, 
Mr.  Gardiner  of  Gardiner’s  Island,  was  killed  by 
the  explosion  of  a great  gun  on  the  Frinceton  at  an 
entertainment  given  on  board  by  Commodore 
Stockton  to  all  the  official  world  of  Washington. 
Two  members  of  the  Cabinet  were  killed  as  well 
as  Mr.  Gardiner,  and  many  were  seriously  hurt  by 
the  fragments  of  the  gun  when  it  burst  — among 
these  was  my  father.  The  President  had  just 
gone  below  with  some  ladies. 

This  tragedy  led  to  his  marriage.  Miss  Gardi- 
ner was  very  handsome  and  has  retained  great 
health  and  youthfulness  of  appearance.  There 
was  a little  laughing  at  her  for  driving  four  horses 
(finer  horses  than  those  of  the  Russian  minister), 
and  because  she  received  seated  — her  large  arm- 
chair on  a slightly  raised  platform  in  front  of  the 
windows  opening  to  the  circular  piazza  looking  on 
the  river.  Also  three  feathers  in  her  hair,  and  a 


lOO 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


long-trained  purple  velvet  dress  were  much  com- 
mented on  by  the  elders  who  had  seen  other  Presi- 
dents’ wives  take  their  state  more  easily. 

With  all  Presidents’  families  up  to  the  time,  in- 
cluding General  Taylor’s  administration  when  his 
sweet  and  most  ladylike  daughter,  Mrs.  Bliss,  re- 
ceived for  him,  it  was  usual  for  the  lady  of  the 
White  House  to  be  at  home  as  any  of  us  would  be 
in  our  houses ; and  whether,  informally,  in  the 
evenings,  or  on  fixed  formal  occasions,  you  went 
there  to  see  the  wife  or  daughter,  as  might  be,  of 
the  President,  and  to  her  you  made  your  respects. 

After  the  death  of  President  Taylor  I was  away 
for  many  years  and  I do  not  like  the  fashion  I 
found  replacing  this  obviously  correct  form  of  re- 
ception. The  long  line  of  ladies  in  evening  dress 
who  “ assist  ” now,  take  away  the  meaning  and 
unity  of  the  idea  of  making  one’s  respects  to  the 
family  of  the  Chief  Magistrate. 

Mrs.  Polk  who  followed  the  Tylers,  was  a very 
proud,  very  handsome,  very  dignified  woman  who 
neither  needed  “assistance”  nor  would  she  have 
liked  to  share  her  duties  of  state.  Erect,  atten- 


T 

i 


' . ^ 


THOMAS  H.  BENTON, 


FAMILY  LIFE  OF  THE  WHITE  HOUSE.  lOJ 


live,  quietly  gracious,  she  really  did  her  part  well. 
She  was  also  an  admirable  housekeeper,  and 
brought  order  into  the  domestic  managements, 
which  was  a great  deal  to  add  to  all  her  other  du- 
ties. It  was  a quiet  house  in  her  day,  no  young 
people,  and  no  children.  Following  her  came 
Mrs.  Pierce  — already  broken  in  health  and  now 
heart-broken,  poor  woman.  Fate,  that  so  often 
fills  the  cup  of  triumph  only  to  add  a drop  so  bit- 
ter that  we  fain  would  put  it  from  us,  took  all  the 
life  out  of  her  life  immediately  after  the  election 
of  President  Pierce ; their  only  child,  a boy  of 
twelve,  was  killed  — schockingly  mutilated — in  a 
railroad  accident,  she  beside  him,  ’seeing  it,  but 
powerless  to  help,  Fler  woe-begone  face  with  its 
sunken  dark  eyes,  and  skin  like  yellowed  ivory, 
banished  all  animation  in  others.  She  tried  but 
constantly  broke  down  in  her  efforts  to  lift,  but  her 
life  was  over  in  fact  from  the  time  of  that  dreadful 
shock.  Mr.  Pierce,  too,  felt  their  loss  deeply,  but 
his  was  a more  genial  nature.  He  was  a most  ami- 
able man  whose  friends  remained  always  attached 
to  him.  He  often  received  alone,  and  many  a 


104 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


pleasant  gay  circle  gathered  near  the  fireplace  in 
the  oval  room  and  kept  him  amused. 

Years  before  when  he  had  been  in  the  Senate  he 
was  much  at  our  house  and  now  he  treated  me  as 
the  child  of  old  friends ; although  my  father  had 
refused  personal  intercourse  with  him  from  some 
political  offense.  Coming  back  as  I did  from  a 
long  absence  both  in  California  and  then  in  Europe, 
Mr.  Pierce  propitiated  my  father  by  coming  at 
once  to  call  on  me.  Of  course  my  father  received 
him  well  in  his  own  house  and  he  made  me  go  to 
the  President’s,  “for,”  he  said,  “it  is  Pierce’s  head 
that  is  wrong  — his  heart  is  always  right.” 

It  was  indeed  as  we  had  occasion  soon  to  feel. 

One  day  as  I was  with  my  cousin,  Mrs.  Preston 
of  Kentucky,  at  one  of  her  receptions,  we  were  as- 
tonished by  the  apparition  in  the  drawing-room 
door  of  her  French  cook  in  white  cap  and  apron. 
He  waved  his  hands  towards  the  street,  then  gasped, 
“ The  house  of  Senator  Benton  burn  ! ” At  the 
same  moment  a friend  rushed  in  for  me  and  we  drove 
rapidly  to  my  father’s. 

Thick  smoke  was  filling  the  air,  and  a great 


FAMILY  LIFE  OF  THE  WHITE  HOUSE.  105 

crowd  stood  helpless.  What  little  water  was  to 
be  had  was  frozen,  and  the  house  was  doomed. 
Both  houses  of  Congress  had  instantly  adjourned, 
and  they,  and  nearly  all  Washington,  gathered  in 
sympathy  around  my  father.  He,  with  one  thought 
in  mind,  had  reached  there  from  the  Capitol  to  find 
it  too  late  ; it  was  impossible  to  save  his  library  or 
the  papers  on  his  chief  table  — among  them  part  of 
the  manuscripts  of  the  second  volume  of  his  Thirty 
Years  in  the  Senate.  My  eldest  sister,  at  the  risk  of 
her  life,  tried  to  gather  these,  but  fell  suffocated 
and  would  have  been  lost  but  for  a young  Irish 
groom  who  ran  into  the  burning  room  after  her 
and  carried  her  into  the  air.  A defective  flue 
had  quietly  undermined  the  room  over  the 
library  and  its  floor  fell  in  on  thousands  of 
books  and  papers,  etc. ; the  smoke  was  suffoca- 
ting. First  sending  her  little  children  into  safety, 
my  sister  had  run  down  and  turned  off  the  gas  at 
the  meter  — then  tried  for  the  manuscript  on  the 
library  table.  But  for  young  Denis  she  would 
have  died  there.  Fler  forethought  prevented  ex- 
plosions and  loss  of  life. 


Io6  SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 

But  all  was  lost.  Like  a proud  ship  full  freighted, 
the  dear  hospitable  noble  home  went  down  all  stand- 
ing. 

My  house  was  but  a few  doors  from  the  old 
home  and  there  we  were  all  gathered,  more  heart- 
sore  than  can  be  told,  when  the  President  came  in 

— too  moved  to  be  able  to  speak  at  first — he  could 
only  grasp  my  father’s  hands  and  choke  back  his 
emotion.  He  had  known  well  what  our  home  was 

— what  my  mother  had  been  in  it  — what  a friend 
she  had  been  to  him  in  one  turning  point  in  his 
life. 

He  told  my  father  he  had  been  off  riding  when 
the  news  met  him,  and  he  had  hurried  to  him  stop- 
ping only  at  the  White  House  to  give  the  necessary 
order — “and  you  will  find  everjthing  ready  for 
you  — the  library  and  the  bedroom  next  it,  and 
you  must  stay  there  until  you  rebuild  your  house.” 

That  moved  my  father  from  his  stern  endurance, 
and  the  old  kind  relations  returned  not  to  be 
shaken  again. 

I,  from  the  South,  had  one  feeling  about  the 
Union.  Mr.  Pierce  had  a differing  one.  It 


FAMILY  LIFE  OF  THE  WHITE  HOUSE.  107 


chanced  that  I did  not  meet  him  again  from  about 
the  time  of  that  fire,  until  in  the  height  of  our  war. 
I heard  some  one  speaking  hardly  of  him  as  he 
left  the  railway  carriage  on  its  coming  into  a Bos- 
ton depot  — I had  not  seen  him,  and  it  was  a chase 
and  a push  to  catch  up  with  him  in  the  crowded 
station  where,  hand  in  hand,  with  a thousand  home 
memories  crowding  on  me,  I spoke  with  him  for 
the  last  time.  It  is  simply  impossible  to  give  in 
this  brief  way  any  fair  picture  of  the  family  life  of 
the  Presidents.  But  it  has  been  such  as  Ameri- 
cans can  be  pleased  to  feel  was  in  keeping  with 
our  national  feeling  of  love  and  honor  for  home. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


MRS.  MADISON  AND  MRS.  HAMILTON. 

T HAD  the  good  fortune  to  be  in  Westminster 
-I-  Abbey  and  hear  Dean  Stanley  illustrate  the 
Parable  of  the  Talents  from  the  use  made  of  the 
“ talents  ” committed  to  their  keeping  by  three  dis- 
tinguished men  who  had  just  died,  and  whose  lives 
and  deaths  connected  them  with  the  Abbey  — the 
Marquis  of  Westminster  who  had  the  talents  of 
great  family  and  social  power  as  well  as  very  great 
wealth,  and  whose  right  use  of  both  is  known ; Mr. 
Peabody  who  also  had  the  trust  of  great  fortune 
and  whose  care  for  the  poor  of  London  gained 
him  funeral  honors  in  that  historic  church.  Dean 
Stanley  made  you  see  they  had  been  faithful  to 
their  trust. 

His  voice  changed,  however,  and  you  felt  how 

personal  was  the  loss  he  had  met  in  the  death  of 
loS 


MRS.  MADISON  AND  MRS.  HAMILTON,  109 


the  third  — a clergyman,  his  brother-priest,  and 
sharer  in  the  sacred  offices  of  religion.  His  talent 
had  been  a voice  of  such  noble  meaning  and  beauty 
that,  the  Dean  said,  it  uplifted  the  hearts  of  all 
who  had  heard  him  officiating  in  the  Abbey;  there 
was  a suggestion  that  this  rare  voice  would  have 
brought  him  wealth  and  fame,  but  he  had  chosen 
to  turn  from  the  world  and  dedicate  his  powers  to 
God.  And  then,  in  his  quiet  way,  the  Dean  told 
of  the  great  spiritual  good  this  had  led  to. 

But  “I  am  nothing,”  young  people  will  say;  “I 
have  no  power,  no  way,  to  do  great  things.”  Na- 
turally, not  much  while  you  are  but  twigs,  but  you 
can  bend  in  a good  or  bad  direction.  See  for 
yourselves  the  effect  of  different  lives  around  you, 
and  question  yourself  as  to  what  use  you  are  mak- 
ing of  such  gifts  as  you  have.  Youth  in  itself  is 
a glorious  gift  and  holds  all  possibilities. 

Three  women  come  to  my  mind  as  illustrations 
of  this  parable ; one,  as  having  kept  hers  “ wrapped 
in  a napkin.”  Each  of  them  I knew  in  her  very 
old  age  when  time  had  put  its  stamp  and  verdict 
on  the  result ; ea(;b  had  large  talents  entrusted 


I lO 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MV  TIME. 


to  her,  and  long  life  and  conspicuous  position  in 
which  to  use  them. 

Mrs.  Madison  was  one.  As  the  wife  of  a Presi- 
dent, and  during  the  stirring  war  time  of  1812,  she 
had  a governing  position.  She  had  the  great  gift 
of  healthy  beauty,  and  much  clear  common  sense 
as  well  as  quick  wit  ; but  her  crowning  talent  was 
her  charm  of  manners.  She  had  what  the  French 
term  courtoisie  de  coeur,  as  well  as  the  courtesy  of 
form  also.  This,  no  selfish  person  can  have. 
I once  hurt  the  feelings  of  a ver}'  handsome,  ad- 
mired girl  by  saying  no  selfish  person  could  have 
thoroughly  good  manners ; she  was  selfish  to  the 
bone  and  knew  it,  yet  had  so  much  good  in  her 
that  she  was  not  comfortable  even  when  she  did 
have  her  own  way,  but  it  ended  in  only  feeling  un- 
comfortable— not  in  trying  to  be  different. 

The  Empress -Josephine  must  have  had  much 
the  same  manner  as  Mrs.  Madison.  So  had 
Madame  Re'camier;  I knew  intimately  well  in 
Paris  one  of  her  old  French  friends  who  was  part 
of  her  youth,  as  welT  as  of  her  later  days,  who  gave 
me  a lovable  instance  of  her  prompt  sympathy. 


MRS.  MADISON  AND  MRS.  HAMILTON. 


Ill 


I have  heard  many  things,  too  long  to  tell  here, 
of  Mrs.  Madison’s  way  of  receiving  in  the  White 
House.  While  she  was  talking  with  the  more  dis- 
tinguished people  her  quick  eye  would  mark  some 
shy  young  man,  or  nervous-looking  woman,  not 
yet  used  to  the  society  in  which  she  was  so  natu- 
rally at  home  ; after  the  first  part  of  the  reception 
she  always  moved  about  the  rooms  as  a lady  would 
in  her  own  house,  and  in  her  own  bright  natural 
way  said  something  to  any  one,  especially  to  these 
shy  and  nervous  people,  which  made  them  glow 
with  the  pleased  feeling  that  they  were  welcome 
and  made  to  be  part  of  her  reception. 

Mrs.  Bliss,  the  daughter  of  General  Taylor,  had 
this  same  charming  nature.  With  the  directness 
and  singleness  of  her  soldier-father  she  blended 
a sweet,  gentle  gayety  which  those  who  knew  her 
brother,  “ General  Dick  Taylor,”  will  feel  was  a 
family  gift.  I was  in  the  Senate  from  California 
during  her  time,  and  often  took  to  the  Presidents 
“ my  constituents,”  sometimes  people  of  every 
merit  but  unused  to  formal  society,  and  it  was 
pretty  to  see  how  they  lost  their  feeling  of  being 


112 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


on  guard  and  became  as  natural,  and  therefore  as 
agreeable  to  Mrs.  Bliss  as  to  myself  whom  they 
knew  and  felt  at  home  with. 

Mrs.  Madison’s  considerate  happy  manner  out- 
lasted time  and  change  and  many  troubles,  and 
made  her  house  in  Washington  a place  where 
strangers  and  residents  went  with  pleasure  — a 
shabby  house,  and  the  tall  handsome  old  lady  in 
shabby  old  gowns  of  velvet  or  brocade  nowise  al- 
tered from  the  fashion  of  her  days  of  power.  But 
she  was  Mrs.  Madison.  And  in  the  Washington 
of  my  younger  day  name  and  character  outranked 
appearances.  No  one  questioned  her  wearing 
these  short-waisted,  puff-sleeved,  gored  velvet 
gowns,  with  a muslin  neckerchief  tucked  into 
the  low  waist  of  the  gown,  and  a little  India 
scarf  of  lovely  faded  tones  over  it.  A wide  and 
stiff  quilling  of  net  rose  high  around  her  throat 
always  — and,  I fear  me,  a little  rouge  and  powder 
were  also  in  use  to  cover  Time’s  footsteps  ; the  bad 
taste  of  the  day  discouraged  gray  hair,  and  Mrs. 
Madison’s  dark  row  of  curls  was  always  surmounted 
by  a turban.  And  with  all  this  she  was  handsome, 


MRS.  MADISON  AND  MRS.  HAMILTON. 


”3 


majestic  and  simply  dignified.  And  very  agreea- 
ble— with  a memory  and  kind  words  for  every 
one. 

She  dined  out  often  and  was  the  chief  person 
always ; and  on  New  Year’s  day  her  rooms  were 
crowded,  for  every  one  who  was  any  one  went  there 
across  from  the  President’s.  Mrs.  Madison  owned 
the  house  on  the  northeast  corner  of  Lafayette 
Square,  and  Mr.  Madison  had  left  her  good  coun- 
try property  also.  But  her  first  marriage  gave 
her  a son  who  brought  care  and  loss  upon  her ; 
and  at  that  time  there  was  not,  I think,  any  pen- 
sion to  the  widows  of  Presidents.  She  had  the 
franking  privilege,  I know,  but  that  did  not  carry 
living  e.xpenses  free. 

Mr.  Madison  had  a fine  estate  in  Virginia,  but  in 
those  days  of  difficult  travel  he  could  not  go  there 
often,  and  so  his  absence  caused  losses,  for  the 
Spanish  proverb  is  true,  that  “ the  master’s  foot 
makes  the  soil  rich.”  When  he  was  about  leaving 
Washington  he  found  himself  needing  five  thou- 
sand dollars  more  than  he  had  to  enable  him  to 
discharge  every  obligation  and  go  home  without 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


II4 

debts.  The  old  salary  of  twenty-five  thousand 
dollars  was  at  that  time  made  to  cover  every  pos- 
sible expense  of  the  President’s  house  ; not  as  now 
when  the  public  and  private  e.xpenses  are  provided 
for  separately  while  the  salary  is  doubled. 

The  manner  of  getting  this  five  thousand  dollars 
belongs  to  a by-gone  day  and  also  it  belongs  in  my 
family  which  brings  it  within  my  telling.  A cousin 
of  the  President  had  married  my  grandmother’s 
sister  (the  same  who  as  a little  child  had  been 
called  in  by  her  mother  to  reassure  Gen.  Tarleton’s 
English  officers  by  eating  the  green  peas  which 
they  thought  were  poisoned)  and  the  connection  be- 
came one  of  friendship  as  well  as  by  marriage. 
Our  Aunt  Madison  was  left  a widow  at  nineteen, 
with  two  little  girls ; rich,  beautiful  and  most 
charming,  but  she  would  never  re-marr)^  Her 
eldest  brother  was  Frank  Preston  of  Abingdon, 
who  had  every  good  gift  in  life  and  shared  them 
in  a large  and  splendid  way.  To  him  the  Presi- 
dent wrote  of  his  need  for  this  five  thousand  that 
he  might  leave  Washington  without  a debt,  and 
enclosed  his  note.  And  to  him  came  the  money 


MRS.  MADISON  AND  MRS.  HAMILTON.  II5 

immediately  — for  family  pride,  state  pride,  and  the 
universal  feeling  of  mutual  support  among  gentle- 
men at  that  day,  made  any  other  answer  simply 
impossible. 

Mrs.  Madison’s  moneyed  troubles  were  telling 
on  her  health,  and  Mr.  Buchanan  made  it  his 
affair  to  have  Congress  buy  some  papers  of  Mr. 
Madison’s.  The  bill  lagged  as  usual,  and  he  only 
carried  it  by  telling  of  the  needs  of  the  venerable 
lady  and  asking  that  her  eightieth  birthday,  now 
at  hand,  should  be  marked  by  this  act  of  relief ; 
which  was  done. 

Mr.  Buchanan  and  some  other  friends  were 
named  trustees  to  the  sum  to  secure  it  from  the 
son,  and  when  she  died,  not  long  after,  the  same 
guardianship  divided  it  fairly  between  the  son  she 
loved  in  spite  of  his  unworthiness,  and  her  faithful 
companion  and  niece.  Miss  Dolly  Payne. 

A better  inheritance,  given  by  nature,  came  to 
a great-niece  of  Mrs.  Madison  — Adele  Coutts  — 
who  was  fully  the  equal  of  her  famous  aunt  in 
beauty  and  sweetness  of  nature,  while  every  charm 
that  polished  training  and  associations  can  give, 


Il6  SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 

she  has  gathered.  She  would  have  graced  the 
White  House  had  her  first  husband,  Senator  Doug- 
less  of  Illinois,  reached  the  Presidency. 

Seeing  her  again  but  a few  years  ago,  her  fresh- 
ness and  added  charm  surprised  me  into  asking 
her  how  she  had  kept  the  clock  back  ? and  suffered 
no  change  only  increase  of  beauty.  “ Because  I 
am  happy,  I suppose,”  she  laughed  with  a lovely 
blush. 

Mrs.  Hamilton,  the  widow  of  Alexander  Hamil- 
ton, was  in  absolute  contrast  to  Mrs.  Madison.  I 
know  well  a portrait  of  her  taken  in  her  early 
married  days,  and  her  own  refined  self  I knew  very 
well  in  her  many  visits  to  Washington  quite  toward 
the  close  of  her  long,  useful,  but  quiet  life. 

Her  portrait  is  in  the  same  room  with  one  of 
Hamilton.  When  Tallyrand  was  their  guest  he 
asked  for  this  likeness  of  Hamilton,  and  on  his  re- 
turn to  France  had  it  copied  and  sending  them 
the  copy,  kept  the  original.  After  Hamilton’s  sud- 
den death,  this  original  was  returned  to  the  young 
widow  by  the  Prince,  with  a letter  so  feeling  that 
you  rub  your  eyes  after  reading  the  signature 


MRS.  MADISON  AND  MRS.  HAMILTON. 


117 


with  which  such  different  character  is  associated. 

The  letter  and  portrait  are  among  many  histor- 
ical treasures  belonging  of  right  in  this  home  of  a 
Hamilton.  There  is  the  portrait  of  Washington 
which  he  had  had  painted  as  a gift  to  Hamilton.  It 
is  put  up  on  hinges  and  turns  to  any  light  wanted. 
It  was  deeply  interesting  to  turn  its  serene,  repos- 
ing countenance  towards  the  quick  dark  young 
face  of  Hamilton,  and  the  quiet  high-bred  young 
wife  as  yet  untouched  by  sorrow.  Her  face  is  del- 
icate but  full  of  nerve  and  spirit ; its  long  oval  is 
made  more  long  from  the  hair  being  brushed  back 
over  a high  cushion,  and  the  slim  throat  and  long- 
pointed  bodice  add  to  this  effect  of  slender  length. 
The  eyes  are  very  dark  and  hold  the  life  and  en- 
ergy of  the  restrained  face.  While  the  high-cush- 
ioned hair,  the  rich  dress  and  conventional  attitude 
tell  of  the  woman  of  society,  there  is  something 
deep  and  strong  in  the  steady  eyes  and  closed 
mouth  which  show  a character  of  her  own.  She 
had  not  the  beauty  of  her  splendid  mother  — the 
wife  of  General  Philip  Schuyler,  who,  rather  than 
let  their  crops  be  of  use  to  the  advancing  English 


Il8  SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 

army  (advancing  on  Saratoga  f)  herself  led  her  peo- 
ple in  firing  them.  But  the  high  resolute  nature 
was  all  there  when  the  young  widow  found  in  her 
own  sorrow  and  her  own  orphaned  children  the 
motive  for  a life  which  should  lift  neglect  and  sor- 
row from  thousands  of  children.  Her  “ talents  ” 
were  many;  illustrious  names  and  a powerful  fam- 
ily, the  tenderest  sympathy  of  a whole  nation,  and 
her  own  pitying  loving  nature  blended  with  a rare 
sense  of  justice  — all  these  she  dedicated  to  the 
care  of  orphan  children. 

Her  grief  over  her  own  children  took  the  form 
of  protection  of  those  who  were  poor  and  un- 
friended as  well  as  orphaned.  To  Mrs.  Hamilton 
is  directly  owing  the  first  orphan  asylum  of  New 
York.  On  its  fiftieth  anniversary  a memorial  ser- 
vice was  held  in  the  Church  of  the  Epiphany  (in 
Washington  where  Mrs.  Hamilton  then  was  for 
the  winter)  and  the  work  and  its  greatly  extended 
good  were  told  over.  The  seed  had  become  a 
tree  with  mighty  branches.  Mrs.  Hamilton  was 
feeble  and  could  not  sit  through  the  whole  sendee, 
but  came  only  for  a part  — always,  to  the  commu- 


MRS.  MADISON  AND  MRS.  HAMILTON.  I19 

nion  service.  . This  Sunday  she  came  in  toward 
the  close.  Our  minds  and  hearts  were  filled  with 
the  good  ork  of  this  gentle  lady  when  she  en- 
tered — a very  small,  upright  little  figure  in  deep 
black,  never  altered  from  the  time  her  dark  hair 
was  first  framed  in  by  the  widow’s  cap,  until  now 
the  hair  was  white  as  the  cap.  As  she  moved 
slowly  forward  supported  by  her  daughter,  Mrs. 
Holley,  one  common  feeling  made  the  congregation 
rise,  and  remain  standing  until  she  was  seated  in 
her  pew  at  the  front.  Mrs.  Hamilton,  though 
receiving  marked  attention,  preferred  quiet,  and 
returned  but  few  visits.  At  our  house  one 
day  a very  young  girl  asked  her  if  the  story  of 
“ Miss  McCrea  ” was  true  as  told  in  the  Parley’s 
History.  And  she,  in  her  kind  way,  told  her  the 
story  as  she  knew  it  at  the  time  — “when  I was 
already  a great  girl,”  she  said  (she  was  never  that 
in  size).  They  knew  “ poor  Jane  ” ; and  her  father 
was  so  alarmed  by  the  killing  of  Miss  McCrea, 
that  her  mother  and  herself  were  not  allowed  to 
come  to  him  — from  Saratoga  to  Albany  — until 
he  could  send  them  a strong  escort. 


120 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME, 


Mrs.  Hamilton  retained  her  activity  to  great 
age.  When  I first  lived  on  the  Hudson  River, 
quite  near  her  son’s  home,  it  was  still  remembered 
how  the  old  lady  — past  eighty  — would  leave  the 
train  at  a way  station  and  climb  two  fences  in  her 
short  cut  across  meadows  rather  than  go  on  to  the 
town  where  the  carriage  could  meet  her.  It  was 
a delightfully  historical  house.  Such  an  old,  old 
serving  man  opened  the  door  and  ushered  you 
into  the  square  hall  where  the  family  tradition  of 
service  to  the  country  met  your  eye  in  a fine  life- 
size  portrait  by  Staigg,  of  a great  grandson  — a 
young  officer  in  blue  uniform,  with  his  cap  pushed 
back,  and  showing  the  same  dark  eyes  of  controled 
energy. 

And  the  tradition  of  good  works  too  goes  on. 
Louisa  Lee  Schuyler  has  been  given  a controlling 
part  in  the  State  Charities  and  Reforms  and,  with 
the  aid  of  modem  conviction  on  the  necessity  of 
being  your  “brother’s  keeper,”  has  wide  scope  in 
carrj’ing  out  ideas  begun  so  quietly  long  ago  by 
her  noble  great-grandmother. 

And  now  for  “ the  talent  hidden  in  the  napkin.” 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


THE  TALENT  IN  THE  NAPKIN. 

WHEN  the  Government  built  a broad  macad- 
amized highway  to  connect  the  Ohio  river 
and  “ western  ” travel  with  Washington,  it  was  con- 
sidered so  fine  a work  that  it  was  named  “ The 
National  Road,”  and  the  public  men  connected 
with  it  made  much  reputation,  and  the  contractors 
great  fortunes. 

The  wife  of  one  of  these  used  to  come  for  the 
winters  to  Washington,  driving  from  her  home  near 
Wheeling  in  her  coach-and-four.  After  the  death 
of  her  husband  she  came  less  often  and  in  dimin- 
ished state,  but  always  with  conscious  importance. 

She  had  special  interest  in  me,  and  always 
repeated  for  me  the  story  of  her  saving  my 
life : how  I,  as  a three-year-old  child,  had  (on 
our  way  to  St.  Louis)  been  seized  with  such  a 


I2I 


122 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


violent  attack  of  croup  that  my  father  had  turned 
off  the  highroad  into  the  nearest  house  — which 
was  hers ; how  she  instantly  ran  with  me  to  where 
some  boiling  water  was  being  used  and  gave  me 
the  saving  hot  bath — and  how  our  people  rested 
with  her  until  it  was  again  safe  to  take  me  on  the 
journey.  From  which  came  our  established  atten- 
tions to  Mrs.  Crugar  whenever  she  was  in  Wash- 
ington. 

Although  she  was  not  a congenial  person  she 
had  a very  clear  mind,  w'as  remarkably  well-up  in  na- 
tional matters,  and  understood  the  reasons  for  our 
country’s  development.  She  was  otherwise  w'ell- 
read  also;  but  singularly  without  any  sympathies. 
She  had  had  no  children,  and  though  a ver}'  old 
woman  w'hen  I w'as  first  grown  she  was  perfectly 
healthy  and  hard  and  clear. 

She  had  passed  out  of  my  mind  until  w^e  were  in 
Wheeling  (West  Virginia)  in  the  early  days  of  the 
war,  w’here  I had  the  surprise  to  learn  she  was  still 
living  and  as  clear-headed  as  ever  though  quite  a 
hundred  years  old. 

Her  resolute  living  alone,  with  no  one  at  all  in 


THE  TALENT  IN  THE  NAPKIN. 


123 


her  house  — even  all  servants  locked  out  at  sunset 
— had  given  ground  to  certain  distant  relations  to 
petition  for  a guardian  to  protect  her  and  her  prop- 
erty. The  old  lady  asked  to  come  into  open  court 
and  prove  her  capacity.  She  came  off  with  flying 
colors.  It  was  made  sure  she  was  not  only  dis- 
tinct as  regarded  the  past,  but  as  her  memory  of 
passing  events  was  questioned  she  triumphantly 
told  the  Judge  of  a business-scandal  with  which 
his  family  name  had  lately  been  associated,  and 
was  let  to  go  her  own  way  unmolested. 

We  were  told  it  was  a risk  to  make  the  visit,  for 
she  was  a few  miles  out  of  town,  in  a hilly  country  ; 
but  I was  in  a light  carriage,  and  accompanied  by 
the  General  and  a party  of  officers  on  horseback ; 
men  who  knew  how  to  look  out  and  what  to  do  if 
attacked. 

It  was  lovely  May  weather  and  everything  in 
beauty,  but  no  work  was  going  on,  for  all  the  men 
were  in  one  or  the  other  army  ; you  can’t  think  how 
sad  it  is  to  see  war  in  possession  of  homesteads. 

Coming  out  of  the  high,  close  hills,  we  crossed 
a gay  sparkling  river  and  found  ourselves  in  the 


124 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


meadows  belonging  to  “ The  Stone  House.”  All 
roads  and  paths  were  lost  in  the  unchecked  growth 
of  many  years  and  the  long  grasses  smothered  the 
sounds  of  wheels  and  horses  as  we  drove  quite  up 
to  the  door.  A long-closed  door.  The  broad  slabs 
of  stone  making  its  once  handsome  steps  had  sunk 
like  old  gravestones  and  lay  awrj'  upon  each  other. 

It  was  a well-built  house  of  dressed  stone,  veiy^ 
large  and  solid,  with  the  usual  detached  kitchen 
and  long  row  of  “negro  quarters.”  From  these 
poured  out  a shining-faced,  fat,  smiling  black  crowd 
— old  and  young  — scary  young  ones  holding  on  to 
their  mammies  and  peeping  around  at  our  group  of 
uniformed  officers  — “ Linkum’s  sojers.”  They 
scattered  so  when  first  spoken  to  that  I followed 
up  a woman  with  a heavy  baby  and  made  her  com- 
prehend we  only  wanted  to  see  Mrs.  Crugar. 

“ Ole  Mis’  ? ” 

“ Yes.  Go  in  and  take  this  card.  Tell  her  she 
saved  my  life  when  I was  a baby  and  had  croup 
mighty  bad,  and  I want  to  see  her.” 

She  was  afraid  to  venture  in  but  we  made  her, 
and  she  ran  back,  radiant ; we  were  to  come  in. 


THE  TALENT  IN  THE  NAPKIN.  1 25 

Going  back  to  the  front  door  we  found  “ Ole 
Mis’  ” had  had  it  unlocked  for  us  and  the  slanting 
sun  sent  its  yellow  light  upon  the  thick,  thick  dust 
of  the  broad  long  hall. 

In  a large  library  lined  with  books  we  found, 
seated  there,  the  old  lady,  who  knew  perfectly  all 
about  me  and  understood  why  armed  men  rode 
down  her  glen.  She  talked  wonderfully  of  the  con- 
ditions that  caused  the  war  and  of  one  inevitable 
result ; but  all  with  no  interest  or  feeling,  merely 
knowledge. 

She  was  carefully  dressed  in  rich  black  satin 
with  a cap  of  beautiful  old  yellowed  lace,  with  its 
big  bows  of  orange  and  red  ribbons  on  top,  and 
broad  strings  of  the  same  tied  under  her  chin  ; 
the  inevitable  false  hair,  dark,  was  framed  in  with 
rich  lace  quillings.  Her  age  told  in  the  skin  of 
face  and  hands  which  were  like  crimped  parch- 
ment, but  the  lips  were  firm,  and  the  eyes,  deep-set 
in  wrinkled  lids,  were  still  dark  and  keen. 

She  had  in  her  hand  a volume  of  the  Spectator^ 
which  she  said  was  writing  she  liked.  Her  old 
books  were  the  only  kind  she  cared  for.  “ But  I 


126 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MV  TIME. 


know  all  that’s  going  on,”  she  said ; “ I take  a New 
York  daily  paper  (the  Trihwie  it  was,  as  we  saw  by 
the  pile  on  the  table  beside  her)  and  the  Wheeling 
paper.  And  when  she  wanted  other  information,  “ I 
send  for  my  lawyer.” 

She  never  left  the  house  and  let  no  one  come 
into  it  but  for  her  few  personal  wants  by  day. 
Broths,  eggs  and  milk,  made  her  food  ; a bowl  of 
milk  and  some  bread  was  beside  her  on  a small 
table  — her  regular  supper  she  said,  after  which, 
at  six  o’clock,  she  locked  the  door  and  remained 
quite  alone  all  night. 

“ But,”  I asked,  “ suppose  you  are  ill  "i  ” 

Well,  but  I never  am.  Maybe  you  think  I 
might  die  here  all  alone  ? So  I might.  But  I have 
been  alive  over  a hundred  years  and  my  time  must 
come  — and  I might  as  well  be  alone  then  for  no- 
body can  keep  it  off.” 

She  remembered  her  duties  as  hostess  and  said 
it  might  please  “ the  young  people  ” to  go  up  stairs ; 
there  was  a ballroom  there  and  they  might  dance 
if  they  liked.  “ It’s  twenty-five  years  since  I cared 
to  go  up  there,”  she  said.  “ Sometimes  I send  the 


THE  TALENT  IN  THE  NAPKIN. 


127 


women  up  to  clean  but  I don’t  know  if  they  do.” 

(She  looked  after  them  with  some  interest  then 
said,  disapprovingly,  “ They  are  fine  young  men  to 
be  throwing  their  lives  away.”) 

The  young  people  found  it  so  curious  that  they 
made  me  go  up.  The  ballroom  was  across  the 
whole  front  of  the  house,  with  many  windows  and 
a handsome  carved  marble  fireplace  at  each  end 
and  deep  closets  either  side  of  these  fireplaces. 

Like  Queen  Elizabeth,  Mrs.  Crugar  would  seem 
to  have  kept  all  her  fine  clothes.  The  whole  walls 
were  hung  thick  with  dresses  of  silk  and  satin  and 
velvet,  “pelisses”  trimmed  with  fur,  braided  rid- 
ing habits,  and  elaborately  trimmed  mantles  of 
queer  rich  damasked  black  silks ; while  the  clos- 
ets had  endless  bonnets  and  caps  and  turbans  — 
those  bonnets  of  tremendous  size  and  fine  leghorn 
straw  costing  from  fifty  to  a hundred  dollars,  and 
their  veils  to  the  knee  of  fine  old  English  lace ; 
gold  and  silver  India  muslin  and  fine  gold  em- 
broidered cashmere  turbans.  Such  things  made 
a museum  of  fashions  from  about  1820  to  1840. 
Then  seclusion  had  set  in. 


128 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


There  were  treasures  of  good  lace  in  shawls  and 
lace  veils  of  great  length  — lovely  things  for  front 
breadths.  Some  were  in  old  English  Honiton,  a 
charming  refined  lace  ; large  capes  with  long  sash- 
ends,  in  fine  French  needlework  on  muslin,  and 
frilled  richly  with  yards  upon  yards  of  Mechlin  or 
spidery  Brussels  lace ; and  there  was  a shawl  and 
some  flounces  of  yellowed  Spanish  blonde  which  it 
was  distracting  to  see  unused.  Some  India  scarfs 
were  left  — we  fancied  the  shawls  might  have  gone 
to  the  negro  quarters. 

The  air  of  the  room  was  still  and  dead  — only 
light  ever  penetrated  there.  Adjoining  was  a bed- 
room with  all  things  in  perfect  order  — to  the  eye. 
The  plump  high  feather  bed  and  pillows  had  their 
fine  time-stained  old  linen,  and  on  the  toilet  ta- 
ble which  had  the  usual  dimity  cover  and  hangings 
was  a large  pincushion.  One  of  the  officers  acci- 
dently rested  his  hand  on  this  when  to  his  shock  it 
crumbled  into  flatness. 

The  world  astir  outside  — civil  war  in  full  pro- 
gress— here  the  silence  of  the  grave  before  death. 

It  seemed  inhuman  to  leave  her  so.  She  said 


THE  TALENT  IN  THE  NAPKIN.  1 29 

we  had  best  start,  that  we  had  four  miles  of  hilly 
road  and  the  country  not  safe  ; “ and  it’s  time  for 
me  to  get  to  bed.”  But  as  we  looked  back  through 
the  sunset  at  the  silent  house  and  pictured  that 
solitary  old  figure  putting  itself  away  for  the  night, 
we  asked  ourselves  if  that  life  was  worth  living? 
And,  by  way  of  answer,  above  the  ringing  trot  of 
the  horses  and  clank  of  “ sabre  and  spur,”  rose 
cheerfully  a round  young  voice  singing  out  his  fa- 
vorite German  war-song  — 


The  bullets  ring  — 

The  riders  shout  1 

We  ride  where  Death  is  lying. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


WESTWARD,”  HOME, 


HIS  “National”  Road  was  after  all  only  a 


broad  macadamized  turnpike  from  Wash- 
ington to  Wheeling  where  it  met  the  Ohio  and 
connected  with  all  river  navigation,  down  to  New 
Orleans,  and  up  to  St.  Louis  and  beyond;  but  to 
us  it  was  vastly  more  than  a road,  for  it  was  full  of 
pleasures  belonging  to  itself,  and  others  that  it  led 


to. 


St.  Louis  was  so  far  that  although  my  father  went 
there  every  year  the  family  could  onl}'  go  out  on 
the  alternate  years  when  Congress  adjourned  in 
March.  Now,  one  need  give  no  thought  to  the 
two-days-ride  in  a Pullman  buffet  car.  Then  it 
was  a matter  of  two-weeks-time,  and  many  other 
considerations ; the  stage  of  water  in  the  Upper 
Ohio  being  a deciding  one.  Also  the  return  had 


WESTWARD,”  HOME. 


to  be  timed  to  avoid  the  keen  cold  of  the  Cumber- 
land Mountains.  So  that  the  years  we  could  only 
leave  Washington  in  June  we  went  to  Virginia  to 
my  grandfather’s  place  near  Lexington ; and 
while  the  grown-up  people  went  to  the  White  Sul- 
phur Springs,  I had  the  most  ideal  happy  country- 
time alone  with  my  grandmother. 

Everything  was  so  fixed  and  unchanging  in  that 
Virginia  life  that  our  constant  travelling — though 
only  at  regular  periods  and  between  our  homes  in 
Washington  to  St.  Louis,  and  the  old  home  in  Vir- 
ginia— was  in  some  way  held  almost  as  a reproach 
and  matter  for  sympathy  among  the  stay-at-home 
friends  and  relations.  “ They  never  did  so.”  What 
people  do  not  do  themselves,  whether  from  choice, 
or  because  they  have  had  no  chance  to  try,  often 
seems  to  them  a thing  that  is  wrong  to  do.  Hans 
Andersen  has  a telling  little  story  on  this  : “ Five 
little  peas  lived  in  a pod ; the  Pod  was  green  and 
so  were  they.”  They  went  out  to  see  the  world  and 
came  back  disgusted.  “ It  was  all  different  from 
what  they  were  used  to  — even  the  sky  was  blue,  not 
green  like  theirs  in  the  pod.” 


132 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


We  were  well  shaken  out  of  our  pod,  I assure 
you,  by  all  the  varied  life  we  led.  And  our  sky  was 
very  blue  and  the  sweet  mountain  winds  deliciously 
exhilarating  as  we  bowled  along  this  fine  road 
among  the  beds  of  blue  mountains  in  the  early 
spring.  In  sheltered  nooks  the  green  of  early 
wheat  and  the  pink  of  peach  trees  would  make  a 
lovely  little  picture,  but  the  road  led  mainly  among 
stern  pine  forests  and  upland  wastes  of  stony 
lands.  Great  inns — “taverns”  was  the  homely 
name  — made  the  night  stations,  but  solitude  was 
the  governing  feature.  There  was  life  enough  in 
our  own  little  party. 

My  father  would  see  that  we  had  one  of  the  best 
“ reserved  ” coaches,  while  the  heavy  baggage  was 
sent  ahead.  Our  coach  would  be  packed  at  our 
door  in  Washington,  with  such  things  as  children 
might  need  for  a week ; for  we  only  travelled  from 
after  breakfast  until  late  afternoon ; it  was  not 
changed,  but  we  had  fresh  horses  ever}'  ten  miles 
as  the  mail  stage  had.  It  was  most  comfortable, 
delightful  “ posting.”  Iviy  father  who  loved  horses 
would  often  drive,  and  usually  sat  outside ; and  if 


“westward,”  home. 


133 


we  were  very  good  we  earned  the  privilege  of  “ sit- 
ting by  the  driver  ” and  seeing  the  four  eager 
horses  dash  away  as  the  black  stable-men  jumped 
back  when  they  loosed  their  heads  and  cheered 
them  off ; that  excitement  over,  came  the  talk  of 
“upsets”  and  robbers  and  snowstorms  — the  lit- 
erature of  the  stage-coach  period. 

Once  on  the  Ohio,  the  ‘■''Belle  Riviere''  as  its 
French  explorers  and  masters  fondly  named  it,  a 
foreign  atmosphere  began  to  be  felt.  Life  seemed 
easier  and  more  gay  already,  than  in  the  strictly 
English  atmosphere  of  Virginia  which  also  gov- 
erned in  Washington. 

Already  in  Louisville,  where  we  would  stay  over 
for  a brief  visit  to  relations,  the  talk  was  of  their 
winter  visits  to  New  Orleans,  and  the  Paris  fash- 
ions, and  the  theatres  and  Mardi-gras  and  other 
festivities ; and  the  very  names  of  the  servants 
were  from  what  our  black  nurse  with  her  Virginia 
prejudices  called  “ that  heathen  talk  ” {French). 
That  “ Mis’  Maria  ” should  tolerate  such  a 
“ heathen  ” name  as  Polydore  for  her  butler  greatly 
offended  “ aunt  ” Sarah’s  sense  of  right. 


134 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


They  have  found  in  Australia  that  by  planting 
common  white  clover  on  the  border  of  the  native 
grasses  surely  and  steadily  the  clover  will  “ eat  out  ” 
even  the  deeprooted  native  grasses  and  substitute 
its  own  little  encroaching  obstinate  self ; and  so 
with  English  gravity  and  “ decorum.”  It  has  con- 
quered and  eaten  out  ever)-  trace  of  the  French 
life  which  still  remained  and  flourished  in  my  early 
day  and  made  of  New  Orleans  and  St.  Louis  places 
as  positively  “ foreign  ” then  as  any  seaport  and 
provincial  town  in  France  can  be  to-day. 

The  older  people  would  not  forgive  France  for 
giving  them  up  to  such  antagonistic  conditions, 
and  generally  they  refused  even  to  learn  English. 
It  was  avrfully  hard  on  them.  They  were  French, 
Catlrolic,  and  Royalists.  By  a scratch  of  the  pen 
they  were  made  one  with  all  they  had  so  long 
hated  in  the  English,  and  to  that  was  added  our 
republican  wiping  out  of  all  social  distinctions. 
No  wonder  that  in  their  ideas  the  tenn  American 
included  all  evils,  all  disturbances,  and  increasing 
surprises  of  annoyance  — including  whole  crops  of 
American  sons-in-law  and  grandchildren. 


WESTWARD,”  HOME. 


135 


Sallow-faced,  tawny-haired,  with  laughing  black 
eyes,  these  young  French- Americans  were  delight- 
ful gay  playmates,  and  a great  change  from  our 
English-fashioned  young  friends  across  the  moun- 
tains. Language,  customs,  prejudices,  cookery  — 
all  was  as  French  here  as  the  other  was  English. 

Although  St.  Louis  was  not  more  than  a petite 
ville  in  numbers,  yet  it  had  great  interests  and  had 
a stirring  life,  much  of  which  revolved  about  my 
father,  who  was  the  connecting  link  and  powerful 
friendly  intermediary  between  these  interests  and 
the  Government. 

General  Clarke,  of  Lewis-and-Clarke  exploring 
fame,  was  ending  his  days  quietly  in  St.  Louis 
where  he  had  charge  of  all  Indian  affairs  for 
that  whole  region ; a distinguished-looking  white- 
haired  man  who  understood  his  trust  and  governed 
kindly  and  wisely. 

When  Washington  Irving  was  out  there  a war- 
dance  was  held  in  the  large  council  yard  that  he 
might  see  real  Indians  at  their  real  life.  I was 
very  young,  and  the  whole  horrible  thing,  as  they 
grew  excited,  threw  me  into  a panic.  A tall  strong 


136 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


kind-faced  young  officer,  married  to  a favorite 
cousin  of  my  mother’s,  carried  me  off  and  com- 
forted me.  He  too  is  of  the  past,  and  it  was  his 
kind  thought  for  his  soldiers  that  cost  his  life.  Had 
he  kept  his  surgeon  near  himself.  General  Albert 
Sidney  Johnston  would  not  have  bled  to  death  from 
the  wound  he  received  at  Shiloh. 

St.  Louis  was  on  the  border  of  an  immense  and 
almost  unexplored  Indian  countiy*.  The  caravans 
of  merchandise  going  through  it  to  Santa  Fe  ran 
all  the  risks  you  ever  read  of  among  Bedouins  on 
the  desert ; the  hunters  and  trappers,  as  well  as  the 
merchants,  started  off  into  the  unknown  with  only 
the  one  certainty  — that  danger  was  there ; and 
when  they  came  back  — if  they  did  — it  was  as 
from  underworld.  Jefferson  Barracks  below  St. 
Louis  was  a large  and  important  militaiy  post 
which  was  kept  busy  enough.  It  ended  much  hard 
Indian  warfare  when  they  at  last  captured  Black 
Hawk.  I saw  him  when  he  was  a prisoner  at  the 
Garrison  — a real  Indian  and  real  old  warrior,  cap- 
tive but  not  subdued. 

The  governing  religion  was  of  course  Catholic 


“westward,”  home.  137 

as  this  had  been  so  lately  a French  possession 
and  its  chief  people  were  the  French  settlers  who 
were  also  the  chief  traders  in  furs.  Priests  and 
Sisters  of  Charity  in  their  special  black  dress 
were  everywhere  in  the  streets,  so  were  the  army 
officers  in  service-worn  uniforms,  and  the  French 
peasant  women  wore,  as  in  France,  their  thick 
white  caps,  sabots  and  full  red  petticoats  with  big 
blue  or  yellow  handkerchiefs  crossed  over  the  white 
bodices ; and  with  the  Indians  painted  and  blank- 
eted gliding  along  in  files  towards  the  enclosure 
around  General  Clarke’s  quarters  one  would  have 
been  puzzled  to  say  whose  country  it  was  now.  On 
the  levee  negro  boat-hands  sang  wild  chants  as 
they  “ loaded-uja  ” ; but  already  keen-featured, 
sallow  men  were  going  quietly  but  alertly  in  and 
out  of  warehouses,  and  council  yard  and  fur  trad- 
ing houses — “ white  clover”  which  ate  its  way  into 
possession  of  the  pear-orchards  and  made  them 
town  lots,  and  built  square  ugly  meeting-houses 
near  the  cathedral,  and  married  the  French  girls, 
and  generally  changed  the  face  of  St.  Louis 
“ French  ” nature. 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MV  TIME. 


>3S 

The  houses  were  built  in  the  Creole  way ; a court- 
yard surrounded  by  a four- sided  house  with  broad  gal- 
leries all  round,  which  sat  peacefully  in  the  midst 
of  trees  and  gardens  and  orchards  on  the  gentle 
slope  looking  to  the  wide  muddy  torrent  of  the 
Mississippi  and  the  flat  green  plain  beyond  of 
“the  Illinois.”  There  was  only  one  “main” 
street  — ver}'  village-like  and  not  over  a mile  long. 
The  dwelling-houses  were  placed  just  where  they 
preferred  without  regard  to  any  future  plan.  The 
Bishop’s  garden  and  the  Cathedral  (where  was  the 
appalling  picture  of  St.  Bartholomew)  were  on  a 
handsome  scale,  but  bordered  by  little  alleys  of 
roughly-paved  short  streets.  From  these,  by  a 
garden  gate  in  a high  wall,  you  could  go  in  to  a 
great  garden  which  was  part  lawn  and  part  orchard, 
and  well  oil  from  the  street  would  be  the  large 
quiet  house  with  polished  inlaid  floors  and  hand- 
some, old  mahogany  furniture.  They  lived  a most 
comfortable  and  unceremonious  life  among  them- 
selves and  were  friendly  and  hospitable  to  those 
they  felt  to  be  friends,  but,  apart  from  the  chosen 
few,  had  open  antipathy  to  “ dose  American." 


WESTWARD,”  HOME. 


139 


As  in  France,  the  young  people  in  marrying  did 
not  go  from  home  but  had  a part  of  the  large  house 
assigned  them,  and  three  generations  under  one 
roof  seemed  to  blend  smoothly  in  the  family  whole. 
There  are  some  charming  stories  by  a daughter 
of  Guizot,  Madame  de  Witt,  and  by  Madame 
Charles  Reybaud  (who  writes  also  of  family  life) 
which  gave  peaceful  pictures  cf  this  way  of 
living,  not  known  to  English  peoples. 

Growing  up  in  its  midst,  I felt  at  home  in  all 
French  domestic  ideas  vdien  I lived  in  France  ; 
and  Hamerton  is  right  in  his  praise  of  many  of  its 
good  aspects. 

My  father  they  knew  to  be  their  comprehending 
and  earnest  friend ; Tami  cies  Franfais  was  their 
name  for  him,  and  his  personal  relations  with  his 
many  clients  in  both  New  Orleans  and  St.  Louis 
were  warm  and  true  on  both  sides. 

They  had  been  badly  treated  in  the  matter  of 
land  titles  ; it  is  the  habit  of  our  Government  to 
disregard  its  treaties  with  helpless  peoples,  as  we 
saw  repeated  in  California, 

Quite  in  the  beginning  of  our  war  Prince  Napo- 


140 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


leon  came  out  to  St.  Louis.  He  was  deeply  in- 
terested in  our  military  movements,  more  espe- 
cially those  to  be  carried  through  this  Western 
country.  He  could  not  be  comforted  for  the  loss 
to  France  of  this  noble  territorj'.  It  was  very  in- 
teresting to  see  him  on  this  ground.  His  remark- 
able  likeness  to  the  great  Napoleon  gave  a curious 
historical  effect  to  his  talk.  He  had  but  the  one 
day  to  give  to  St  Louis  and  was  to  visit  the  troops, 
their  camps  and  barracks  and  hospitals  — all  a 
soldier  comprehends  as  essential  to  successful 
work.  The  first  visit  of  course  was  made  by  the 
General  who  had  sent  to  ask  when  he  would  re- 
ceive him,  sending  also  his  Chief  of  Staff  to  let 
the  Prince  know  what  there  was  to  be  seen  in  mil- 
itary preparations,  etc.  The  General’s  brief  visit 
made,  the  Prince  returned  it  within  the  hour, 
when  he  found  a large  mounted  escort  waiting 
him  at  Headquarters,  to  go  ever3nvhere  with  him. 
Not  an  empty  form,  for  the  strength  of  the  coun- 
try there  was  against  our  side.  But  the  Prince 
forgot  his  brief  time  and  the  waiting  guard,  for  af- 
ter the  first  politenesses  he  squared  himself  round 


“westward,”  home.  141 

to  the  General  and  began  with  what  was  on  his 
heart : “ Comment  mon  oncle  at'il pu  se  defaire  d'un 
tel E7npire  ? ” * and  became  so  engrossed  in  this  sub- 
ject that  he  forgot  all  else  and  it  was  some  time 
before  he  broke  off. 

Except  in  height,  the  likeness  to  his  uncle,  when 
Emperor,  was  exact,  and  it  seemed  almost  as 
though  the  old  Napoleon  were  rebuking  himself 
as  he  realized  the  empire  given  away. 

If  you  will  take  the  map  of  our  country  and  look 
up  what  the  French  held  in  the  time  of  Bonaparte, 
you  will  understand  something  of  the  feeling  with 
which  the  nephew  now  looked  on  this  magnificent 
heritage  lost  to  France. 


* How  could  my  uncle  have  deprived  himself  of  such  an  Empire  ? 


CHAPTER  X. 


SAINT  LOUIS. 

COMING  back  to  Saint  I.ouis  always  in  spring- 
time, even  after  the  mild  winters  of  Wash- 
ington the  contrast  was  charming.  The  Potomac 
was  a wide  and  beautifully  blue  river,  but  it  did 
nothing,  and  was  nothing  more  than  a feature  in 
the  landscape,  while  here  the  tawny  swift  Missis- 
sippi was  stirring  with  busy  life,  and  the  little  city 
itself,  was  animated  from  its  thronged  river-bank 
out  through  to  the  Indian  camps  on  the  rolling 
prairie  back  of  the  town. 

And  it  was  such  an  embowered  fragrant  place 
in  that  season  ; the  thickets  of  wild  plum  and  the 
wild  crab-apples  which  covered  the  prairie  em- 
balmed the  air,  and  everywhere  was  the  honey- 
scent  of  the  locust.  What  the  elm  is  to  some  New 
England  towns  the  locust  was  to  Saint  Louis ; the 


142 


SAINT  LOUIS. 


143 


narrow  streets  were  bordered  by  them  and  they 
were  repeated  everywhere.  My  father  had  an 
affection  for  this  tree  and  had  planted  a great 
many  about  his  house  when  he  first  settled  there 
— long  before  he  was  married.  In  my  young  day 
these  were  fine  large  trees.  A line  of  them  made 
a delicate  green  screen  to  the  wide  galleries  which 
ran  the  length  of  the  house,  on  both  stories,  and 
their  long  clusters  of  vanilla-scented  blooms  made 
part  of  our  home-memories.  Years  after,  in  Cali- 
fornia, this  delicate  intangible  link  made  a curious 
adventure  for  me  'wnth  a person  no  one  ever  con- 
nected before  with  any  good  or  gentle  idea.  It  is 
a severe  pull  on  my  natural  tendency  to  digress  not 
to  tell  it  now,  but  I will  “ in  its  place,”  for  it  shows 
how  loyally  my  father  was  remembered  by  old 
Missourians. 

Not  only  did  the  blossoming  town  seem  en  fete, 
but  everybody  seemed  light  and  gay,  and  my  father, 
freed  from  the  official  and  exacting  life  of  Wash- 
ington, reverted  to  his  cheerful  out-door  life. 
The  long  gallery  of  the  parlor-floor  was  his  place 
when  at  home,  even  if  light  rains  were  falling.  He 


144 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME, 


never  breathed  in-door  air  when  he  could  be,  head 
uncovered,  in  a bath  of  sunshine.  His  “ settee  ” 
and  a table,  and  “ a colony  of  chairs  ” for  others, 
made  his  favorite  settlement,  where  the  early  light 
breakfast  of  coffee  and  bread  and  fruit  was  taken 
• — by  any  number  who  might  chance  to  come,  I 
7iever  heard  the  word  ‘‘^trouble"  applied  to  house- 
hold arrangements.  For  all  we  knew,  everything 
grew  ready  to  be  served. 

The  day  begins  early  in  warm  climates,  and  from 
early  morning  on,  there  was  a coming  and  going  of 
varied  but  all  welcome  friends.  There  came  gov- 
erning citizens  to  talk  of  political  affairs.  Much 
had  to  be  only  jjersonal  information  in  those  days 
before  railways  and  telegrajDhs,  and  -when  the  plans 
of  an  administration  were  only  talked  over  confi- 
dentially with  its  friends.  The  father  of  Mrs. 
Grant  was  one  of  my  father’s  old  friends  and  polit- 
ical allies  of  that  time.  General  Grant  honored 
himself  by  the  honor  and  thoughtful  attention  he 
always  gave  to  this  venerable  man  who  was  a con- 
spicuous figure  in  the  Presidential  receptions.  Af- 
ter I had  made  my  respects  to  the  President  and 


SAINT  LOUIS. 


H5 

Mrs.  Grant,  one  or  the  other  would  be  sure  to  say, 
“Now  step  back  here  and  talk  to  Mr.  Dent”  — 
who  always  kept  me  sitting  by  him  on  his  sofa,  talk- 
ing of  my  father  and  telling  of  the  great  contests 
they  had  gone  through  together ; and  when  his 
memory  failed  calling  me  only  “ Mrs.  Benton,” 
but  always  lighting  up  with  pleased  remembrances. 

There,  too,  came  officers  of  the  army.  My  father 
was  their  comprehending  friend.  Himself  an  old 
officer,  and  for  twenty  years  Chairman  of  the  Sen- 
ate Military  Committee,  he  was  their  sure  and  in- 
telligent friend.  With  both  knowledge  and  good 
will,  such  a position  can  be  made  of  the  utmost 
advantage  to  the  service,  as  well  as  of  personal  ad- 
vantage to  officers.  The  certainty  of  sympathy 
and  proper  official  aid  never  failed  those  who  came 
to  him.  He  was  practically  the  Secretary  of  War 
in  all  those  years,  for  he  was  a fixture  while  a 
Secretary  is  only  a political  accident,  and  in  the 
War  and  Navy  Departments  usually  quite  ignorant 
of  the  personal  as  well  as  of  the  special  require- 
ments of  service.  Through  such  ignorance  much 
injustice  can  be  done,  but  in  all  my  long  knowl- 


146 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


edge  of  Washington,  I have  known  of  but  one 
Secretary  who  found  actual  pleasure  in  giving  pain 
to  officers  and  in  thwarting  all  personal  feelings, 
even  family  feelings. 

The  French  neighbors  enjoyed  coming  for  their 
chat,  and  invariably  brought  some  fine  fruit  or 
flower  for  Madame,  who  fully  appreciated  both 
the  kindly  feeling  and  the  fine  skilful  cultivation. 

There  too  came  many  priests  who  were  soldiers 
in  their  missionary  work,  and  had  as  stirring  ad- 
ventures to  relate  as  the  trappers  and  hunters  who 
knew  they  were  always  welcome  to  my  father. 

And  often,  gliding  past  into  my  mother’s  rooms, 
would  come  the  good  Sister  Elizabeth  on  active 
duty  for  her  hospital  — going  away  with  a basket 
of  useful  things  and  many  a solid  piece  of  money 
from  those  on  the  galler}’,  with  a “permettez  via 
sceur  ” and  a warm  “ Bon  jour,  via  saur  ” from 
every  one. 

Two  friends  of  my  father’s  were  specially  inter- 
esting to  me.  One  a Spanish  officer  and gmtieman, 
in  the  fullest  meaning,  who  had  seiwed  under  Well- 
ington in  Spain  ; the  other  who  was  already  a cap- 


SAINT  LOUIS. 


147 


tain  in  the  French  army  when  Waterloo  broke  it 
up.  Col.  Gamier  was  much  the  elder.  He  had 
accepted  his  exile  and  its  resulting  poverty  and 
sufferings  with  silent  dignity.  My  father  had  a 
good  knowledge  of  Spanish,  but  he  always  tried  to 
add  improvement  to  all  his  knowledge,  and  Col. 
Garniet  and  himself  had  a Spanish  talking-lesson 
daily.  He  taught  us  our  Spanish  also.  My  father 
thought  we  ought  to  know  the  language  of  our 
near  neighbor,  Mexico,  with  whom  closer  relations 
must  come.  I was  a great  favorite  with  Col.  Gar- 
nier.  Some  fancied  resemblance  to  a little  sister, 
won  for  me  his  kindest  voice  and  the  name  of 
“ Rosita.”  Usually  he  took  the  early  coffee  with 
my  father,  and  if  Judge  Lawless  (once  Captain 
Lawless)  joined  them  as  he  often  did,  then  their 
talk  was  sure  to  fall  on  the  Peninsular  war.  A sign 
would  send  me  in  for  the  maps  and  the  box  of  pins 
— beeswax  heads  for  the  Spanish  troops,  red  wax 
for  the  English,  and  for  the  French,  black. 

Never  was  that  discussion  ended.  Not  only  day 
after  day,  but  summer  after  summer,  did  those  three 
move  those  pins  that  put  the  troops  in  differing 


148 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


positions,  and  proved  “ what  might  have  been ; ” 
but  never  did  either  of  the  three  convince  the  other. 
For  hours  they  would  be  at  it ; generally  the  heat 
of  discussion  would  be  stopped  by  my  mother’s 
sending  out  an  iced  watermelon  or  a great  basket 
of  fruit  which  was  a signal  they  understood.  Her 
feeling  was  English  — without  discussion.  My  fa- 
ther’s mother  used  to  say  to  us,  “Your  mother  is 
English  ; and  she  has  the  English  genius  for  home 
comfort.” 

This  grandmother  was  one  of  our  returning 
pleasures  in  going  back  to  Saint  Louis  where  she  had 
lived  chiefly  after  my  father’s  going  there.  She  was 
more  English  than  my  mother  in  nearness  to  the 
mother- countrv',  but  she  had  a singularly  large  un- 
prejudiced view  of  things,  and  had  outlived  every 
personal  interest  except  in  my  father  and  a few 
of  her  grandchildren.  Both  her  father  and  hus- 
band were  English  — both  scholarly  men  and  mis- 
fits in  a new  country'.  My  Grandfather  Benton’s 
library  in  Greek,  Latin,  French,  Spanish  and  Eng- 
lish, had  been  his  joy  while  he  lived  and  made  the 
atmosphere  in  which  my  father  grew  up  — guided 


SAINT  LOUIS. 


149 


by  his  mother  and  his  father’s  close  friend,  a cler- 
gyman, like  himself  an  Oxford  man,  who  put  my 
father  at  his  Greek  Testament  when  he  was  but 
eight;  at  which  age  my  grandfather’s  death  left 
him  the  eldest  son  in  a family  of  seven  children. 

My  father  has  told  me  of  the  awe  and  singular 
feeling  of  loss  of  youth  that  fell  on  him  when,  after 
his  father’s  death  and  a long  illness  which  came 
on  his  mother,  he  was  taken  in  to  see  her. 

She  was  about  thirty;  a very  tall  slender  woman 
with  blue  eyes  that  never  lost  their  steady  clear- 
ness. And,  as  all  the  Hart  family,  she  had  splendid 
long,  thick,  waving,  auburn-brown  hair.  In  her 
six  weeks’  illness  this  had  changed  to  a silvery 
white  — which,  with  her  white  and  thinned  face, 
so  alarmed  my  father  that  he  ran  into  a grove  near 
by  when  he  came  out,  and  “ had  to  war  with  him- 
self to  accept  that  shadow  as  his  mother.”  Nearly 
all  her  children  died  young ; of  rapid  consumption, 
as  their  father  had  died ; and  the  silent  grief  with 
which  my  grandmother  bore  her  eighty-three  years 
of  life  invested  her  with  a dignity  none  intruded 
on.  She  had  her  wing  in  my  father’s  house,  and 


‘5° 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MV  TIME. 


her  own  old  servants  who  knew  her  ways.  A fall 
on  the  ice  and  a badly-set  leg  crippled  her  and 
caused  keen  suffering  from  rheumatisms  for  the 
last  years  of  her  life,  but  her  powerful  clear  in- 
quiring mind  made  books  a great  solace. 

* Our  Virginia  grandmother,  with  her  unbroken 
domestic  life,  her  active  health  and  child’s  heart 
for  simple  pleasures,  was  just  the  opposite  to  my 
Grandmother  Benton,  who  could  not  tolerate  our 
sewing.  “ it  is  not  good  for  your  chest,”  she  would 
say ; and  “ you  should  never  waste  your  time,  do- 
ing what  an  uneducated  person  can  do  better 
for  you.” 

One  of  her  few  pleasures  was  to  have  her  hair 
brushed.  This  remained  thick  and  long ; so  long 
that  the  thick  plait  reached  nearly  to  the  knee. 
When  coiled  around  her  head  it  filled  the  crown  of 
the  “ mob-cap,”  as  the  widow’s  cap  of  that  day  was 
called,  leaving  only  space  for  the  band  of  black 
crape  back  of  the  narrow  crimped  ruffles.  It  was  a 
pleasure  to  her  and  a privilege  to  me  to  let  down  and 
brush  and  smooth  out  this  beautiful  hair,  and  to 
hear  her  talk.  Her  e.xtensive  reading  made  all 


SAINT  LOUIS. 


151 

countries  familiar  to  her.  She  made  on  me,  even 
as  a young  child,  the  effect  of  being  above  other 
people.  And  though  she  died  when  I was  but  thir- 
teen I have  kept  the  realization  of  a lofty  and 
great  soul.  I know  that  my  father  and  his  near- 
est friends  very  often  referred  questions  to  her  and 
deferred  to  her  calm  wisdom  and  unprejudiced  per- 
ceptions. 

In  Washington  all  our  lessons  wer'e  had  at  home 
but  my  father  did  the  important  part  of  appointing 
studies  and  preparing  us  for  our  teachers,  making 
broad  and  lucid  what  they  might  have  left  as  “par- 
rot-ing,”  as  he  expressed  it.  Here  in  Saint  Louis 
we  were  let  to  go  to  school ; chiefly  for  the  practice 
in  French  among  other  children. 

It  makes  me  smile  to  look  back  at  that  word 
“ school  ” which  had  not  the  first  idea  of  studies, 
of  punctuality,  or  discipline  attached  to  it  as  I 
knew  it.  The  going  there  each  morning  was  as 
good  as  playing  truant.  Nei<er  could  it  happen 
that  children  of  any  position  left  the  house  alone, 
or  even  together.  We  were  big  girls  of  eight  anl 
ten  and  every  one  knew  us,  and  the  distance  was 


152 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


only  a short  mile  between  houses  and  grounds  of 
friends ; but  to  go  without  a maid  was  never 
dreamed  of.  We  should  have  greatly  preferred 
our  French  nurse,  Madeleine,  but  she  was  not  suf- 
ficiently important  for  such  duty.  Our  mother’s 
maid,  “ aunt  ” Sara,  was.  She  had  been  trained 
from  her  youth  up  for  her  post  — as  was  the  South- 
ern custom  — and  understood  “manners.”  Erect, 
silent,  holding  a hand  of  each,  she  drilled  us  in 
manners  as  we  went  along.  When  we  passed  the 
small  house  of  M’ame  Desiree  where  she  in  very 
negligee  loose  gown  patted  her  muslins  on  the 
sunny  gallery,  we  had  to  stop  if  she  spoke  to  us. 

M’ame  Desiree  was  the  clear-starcher  and  fine- 
muslin  genius  of  Saint  Louis ; too  fat  now,  but  still 
a most  handsome  quadroon  who  had  a gay  word 
for  every  passer-by.  M’ame  Saraah  was  a crony  of 
hers,  and  when  she  would  give  us  the  good  day  and 
praise  our  neatness  and  good  condition  (as  all  due 
to  M’ame  Saraah !)  we  had  to  wait  and  listen  po- 
litely : “You  can’t  hurry  her,  because  she  is  a poor 
working  woman  and  it  would  hurt  her  feelings  ” — 
aunt  Sara  had  never  heard  the  words,  but  her  con- 


SAINT  LOUIS. 


IS3 

viction  was  that  “ Time  was  made  for  slaves,”  and 
not  for  little  young  ladies. 

Then  the  garden  doors  of  many  pleasant  enclos- 
ures would  be  open  and,  the  various  Madame  Au- 
gustes or  Madame  Caddys*  would  be  out  in  the 
fresh  of  the  morning  and  the  ladies  themselves  — 
also  in  most  easy  negligee  — going  about  their 
grounds.  If  they  saw  us  we  would  be  called  in  and 
cette  bonne  Sara  asked  after  Madame  and  praised 
for  her  petites.  And  with  deliberation  (time  no 
object),  some  pretty  fruit  would  be  chosen  for  us 
and  we  would  recommence  our  walk  to  stop  again 
and  again ; for,  “ Madame  Auguste  is  a lady  and 
you  can’t  hurry  her  ” — in  fact,  there  was  no  hurry 
anywhere. 

When  we  did  reach  the  school  we  were  consigned 
to  Madame  Savary  who  did  not  teach,  but  who 
looked  after  us;  a small  vivacious  Swiss-French- 
woman  with  a mania  for  making  preserves  and  do- 
ing fine  sewing.  Monsieur  Savary  was  capable  of 
far  more  than  was  required  of  him.  I think  he 

♦ The  younger  sons  were  usually  called  Cadet  as  the  descriptive  addition 
to  the  Pierre  or  Auguste  or  what  not : the  Americans  got  this  into  “ Cad- 
dy,” and  “ Mr,  Caddy  ” and  “ Madame  Caddy  ” hardened  into  use  from 
repetition. 


154 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


had  put  away  his  pride  and  resigned  himself  to 
what  he  could,  not  what  he  would,  do.  He  was  a 
spare  tall  man  with  Hat  black  hair  and  gold  spec- 
tacles and  always  wore  a short-waisted  very  long 
and  full-skirted  frock  coat  of  gray,  with  collar  and 
cuffs  of  black  velvet,  a sort  of  uniform  for  teach- 
ers wliich  you  often  see  in  old-fashioned  French 
illustrations.  He  was  quiet,  gentle  and  forbearing, 
and  had  need  to  be  so  as  there  were  about  thirty 
girls,  from  six  to  sixteen — of  course  not  a fraction 
of  a boy  in  a French  school  — and  not  one  with 
any  intentions  of  study  or  habit  of  discipline ; 
good-natured  enough,  but  trying.  They  may 
have  learned  something.  We  were  there  only  for 
easy  handling  of  familiar  French  ; and  except  some 
spelling,  and  reading  aloud  in  Telcviachus,  I do 
not  recall  anything  of  lessons.  But  I won  honors 
in  whipping  ruffles  and  hemming  handkerchiefs  for 
Madame  Savary,  and  what  was  really  important 
was  when  we,  the  younger  ones,  were  permitted  to 
help  her  make  preserves.  If  a quantity  of  straw- 
berries or  currants  were  sent  to  her  all  hands 
turned  in  to  prepare  them.  For  the  object  my 


SAINT  LOUIS. 


iSS 

father  had  in  view,  it  was  more  useful  than  reading 
from  a book  and  vastly  better  for  health  than  sitting 
still  on  a bench  ; for  we  adjourned,  we  young  ones 
I mean,  to  the  inevitable  gallery,  or  the  garden 
which  was  on  the  bluff  overlooking  the  river.  By 
one  o’clock  aunt  Sara  had  come  for  us  to  go  home 
and  as  this  was  our  dinner  hour  we  made  no  de- 
lays. 

In  French  schools  Thursday  is  the  holiday.  Sat- 
urday and  Sunday,  they  think,  make  too  much 
holiday  together.  But  to  us  Americans  the  Sun- 
day was  not  a holiday  in  their  sense,  where  after 
mass  all  their  children  were  taken  around  among 
their  elder  relations  and  it  was  a family  fete-day. 

We  did  not  go  on  Saturdays  to  school.  That 
day  our  mother  had  us  get  our  Sunday-school  les- 
sons with  her  — telling  us  many  interesting  things 
and  making  them,  as  all  our  home  lessons  were, 
a real  pleasure  and  improvement.  Our  Sunday 
dresses  were  decided  on  and  each  thing  reviewed 
and  put  in  order  that  no  delay  might  come.  All 
our  dolls  and  toys  and  weekday  story-books  were 
put  away  until  Monday ; and  then  we  had  as  wild 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


*56 

a play  as  big  grounds  and  good  health  and  early 
youth  could  give.  In  this  our  French  nurse  Mad- 
eleine was  a great  factor ; she  was  so  gay  and 
knew  such  beautiful  songs  and  danced  such  queer 
dances  in  her  pretty  carved  sabots  that  we  doted 
on  her. 

Her  family  had  come  away  from  France,  from  near 
Bordeaux,  because  of  the  cholera.  French  people 
do  not  like  to  leave  their  country,  the  women 
especially,  and  these  were  well-to-do  farming  peo- 
ple. But  the  horror  of  cholera  was  on  them  and 
they  came  to  New  Orleans.  There  they  found  the 
climate  would  not  let  them  work  in  the  fields  and 
they  would  have  to  buy  slaves.  So  they  came  on 
up  the  river  to  the  free  State  of  Illinois,  and 
bought  a fine  farm  just  across  from  Saint  Louis. 
There,  as  the  old  man  said,  his  own  large  family, 
girls  and  boys  — could  all  work  and  his  and  their 
delight  in  the  rich  earth  and  easy  ploughing  was 
great.  He  had  great  pride  in  his  vegatables  and 
melons,  and  my  father  was  capable  of  doing  away 
with  indefinite  melons  — both  the  great  red  water- 
melons and  the  delicate  little  cantelopes  which  the 


SAINT  LOUIS. 


IS7 

French  cultivate  so  well.  Whenever  La  Mere  had 
a specially  fine  melon  she  brought  it  to  my  father ; 
and  always  we  heard  over  again,  and  sorrowed 
with  her  afresh  for  the  parting  from  their  farm  in 
France.  One  sister  was  in  serv'ice  with  us,  and 
another,  Anneite,  was  nurse  in  the  family  of  my 
father’s  niece.  These  young  ones  were  satisfied 
with  the  change ; more  than  satisfied  when  they  ex- 
changed field  and  farm  labor  for  the  ease  of  life  as 
nurses  and  the  pleasure  of  wearing  their  Sunday 
clothes  every  day. 

Sometimes,  in  a summer’s  day  }'ou  feel,  before 
you  see  why,  a chill  in  the  air.  Something  has 
changed  ; and  though  the  day  looks  the  same  its 
sweetness  is  gone.  So,  in  the  summer  I was 
about  eight,  this  bright  careless  Saint  Louis  life 
seemed  to  chill  over.  At  first  we  were  only  told  we 
were  not  to  go  to  school.  Then,  we  were  to  play 
only  with  each  other  in  our  own  grounds  and  no 
more  little  friends  visited  us  or  we  them.  The 
friends  who  came  to  my  father  on  the  long  gallery 
were  as  many  as  ever,  but  they  and  he  himself  no 
longer  had  any  pleasant  leisure,  but  were  quick 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


158 

and  busy  in  coming  and  going,  and  all  looked 
grave.  The  tears  were  all  the  time  on  Madeleine’s 
face  and  constantly  she  was  on  her  knees  telling 
her  beads  and  praying  and  sobbing.  We  saw 
many,  many  funerals  passing.  Our  house  was  on 
a sloping  hill,  and  we  saw  to  all  sides  of  the 
square.  Then,  son'>,  drays  with  several  coffins 
piled  on  jolted  fast  along  the  rough  street,  or  a 
wagon-load  of  empty  coffins  woi  Id  cross  another 
street.  Madeleine  would  run  in  from  the  gallery 
hiding  her  eyes ; “ Ah,  Mon  Dieu,  it  is  all  funerals 
on  every  side — C esi  k chokra:’ 

It  was  the  cholera ; among  a people  excitable 
and  ignorant  of  its  treatment,  who  gave  up  to  it  as  a 
fatality  if  they  could  not  fly  from  it. 

In  this  condition  of  universal  alarm,  when 
nearly  all  who  could,  fled  from  the  town,  even 
clergymen  deserting  their  churches,  my  father 
thought  it  right  for  him  to  stay  and  give  the  en- 
couragement and  example  of  his  presence.  With 
his  courage  and  sense  of  duty  this  was  easy,  but  it 
must  have  been  hard  to  him  to  risk  my  mother 
and  all  of  us  children.  The  Catholic  clerg)’  were 


SAINT  LOUIS. 


IS9 

true  to  their  post ; and  among  the  Protestant 
clerg3men  who  remained  was  a young  man  who 
became  loved  and  honored  there,  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Potts.  He  became  very  intimate  with  my  parents 
during  this  cholera  time,  and  later,  married  a 
neice  of  my  father’s. 

1 was  too  young  to  know  details,  but  I know 
how  the  Peninsular  war  was  laid  aside  for  good 
work  from  both  officers  among  the  sufferers.  All 
were  busy,  and  all  needed,  for  a panic  had  set  in 
and  nothing  is  so  cruel  as  fear.  Our  poor  gentle  Mr, 
Savary  died  — alone.  Gay  M’ame  Desiree  nursed 
others  like  a hero  but  was  herself  a victim.  Our 
Madeleine  became  almost  entirely  blind  — nervous 
paralysis  of  the  eyelid  from  the  terrified  shrinking  of 
the  eye  from  constant  passing  coffins.  Other- 
wise the  disease  did  not  touch  one  of  our  family 
and  spared  our  nearest  friends.  Our  house  was  a 
“ diet-kitchen  ; ” good  soups,  preparations  of  rice, 
and  well-filtered  and  purified  water,  it  became  the 
occupation  of  the  house  to  keep  ready. 

All  the  water  was  brought  in  large  barrels  from 
the  river  and  poured  bucket  by  bucket;  into  great 


l6o  SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 

jars  of  red  earthenware,  some  of  them  five  feet  high. 
These  jars  had  their  own  large  cool  room  paved 
with  glazed  red  brick  and  level  with  the  street. 
The  jars  of  drinking  water  and  for  cooking  were 
clarified  of  the  mud  of  the  river  by  alum  and 
blanched  almonds,  and  then  filtered.  So  much  was 
needed  now  that  even  we  children  were  useful  in 
this  sort  of  work.  In  that  cool  dark  room  the 
melons  used  to  be  kept,  but  there  were  no  melons 
or  fruit  now  — we  ate  only  rice  and  mutton  and 
such  simple  things. 

The  sad  summer  ended  as  all  things  must  end, 
bad  or  good.  Tout  passe.  When  all  seemed  safe, 
suddenly  my  mother  was  taken  down  with  chol- 
era, and  the  nurse  who  had  become  blinded  by 
one  shock  recovered  her  sight  from  this  other.  It 
was  a bad  illness,  but  with  that  one  brush  of  the 
dark  angel’s  wing  our  home  stood  as  before. 


CHAPTER  XL 


SAINT  LOUIS  {continued). 

IT  so  chanced  that  my  marriage  connected  me 
still  more  closely  with  Saint  Louis  and  all  the 
interests  of  its  neighboring  countries  because  of 
their  connection  with  the  explorations  of  Mr, 
Fremont. 

I would  go  with  him  to  the  Delaware  Indian 
country  on  the  frontier  and  stay  until  the  expedi- 
tion was  ready  to  start;  sometimes  returning  to 
Washington,  and  sometimes  remaining  in  Saint 
Louis.  The  frontier  of  then  is  now  Kansas,  and 
its  Indians  and  wolves  and  unbroken  green 
stretches  of  prairie  are  only  a memory  ; and  the 
present  conditions  of  quick  travel  and  quicker  in- 
formation must  almost  prevent  your  having  a clear 
idea  of  the  uncertainties  of  those  journeys.  They 
were  very  wearing  ; and  being  so  well  understood 

i6i 


i62 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


by  the  people  of  that  country  I was  taken  into  their 
most  friendly  sympathy  when  month  was  added  to 
month,  and  another  year  of  silence  began  without 
any  news  from  the  party. 

The  old  whaling  days  of  Nantucket  have  these 
experiences  as  legends  among  them,  where  absence 
and  silence  lasted  for  years,  but  that  was  the  sea. 
Here,  on  land,  was  then  the  same  unbroken 
silence  with  its  fears  and  anxieties,  and  its  useless 
hopes.  At  one  time,  in  Saint  Louis,  for  eight 
months  we  watched  every  day,  and  each  night 
made  preparation  for  the  sudden  arrival  of  Mr. 
Frdmont.  It  was  fully  time  for  his  return,  but  we 
could  not  hear  of  him  in  advance.  As  fast  as 
horses,  and  then  the  river  boats,  could  come  he 
would  come  — there  was  no  other  way  to  hear.  So 
through  the  winter,  through  the  spring,  the  lamp 
burned  on  until  the  sun  rose, 

Burned  vain  through  the  night, 

as  for  Lochiel ; and  the  pretty  little  supper-table 
was  undone  each  morning  to  be  set  afresh  for  the 
next  night  — for  eight  months  1 


SAINT  LOUIS. 


163 


Toward  the  last  a rumor  came  through  Indian 
sources  that  the  party  had  had  a time  of  desperate 
suffering  from  snows  and  starvation  ; though  this 
was  known  and  discussed  by  every  one  it  was 
kindly  kept  from  me,  but  I felt  there  was  some- 
thing under  the  added  expressions  of  protecting 
tender  friendliness. 

Things  do  not  happen  as  we  arrange  for  them, 
but  as  they  arrange  themselves,  and  the  arrival 
was  oddly  different  from  our  plans  of  welcome. 

Early  one  summer  morning  we  were  roused  by 
a message  from  my  elder  cousin  to  ask  if  Mr.  Fre- 
mont really  had  arrived  ? (I  was  just  then  with 
another  of  my  cousins.)  The  messenger  said 
Gabriel  (the  coachman)  had  said  so ; that  he 
insisted  he  ha'd  been  waked  by  a lot  of  gravel 
thrown  into  his  room  through  the  open  window  ; 
that  in  the  moonlight  he  saw  the  Captain  “in  his 
uniform  and  thin  as  a shadow,”  who  asked  him  if 
everybody  was  well,  and  could  he  let  him  into  the 
house  without  making  a noise  ? That  first  he  took 
it  for  a ghost,  but  he  made  sure  it  tvas  the  Cap- 
tain, and  he.  answered  I was  at  Mis’  Anne’s  — that 


164 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


Mr.  Potts  (my  cousin’s  husband)  was  very  sick. 

“And  then  the  Captain  went  off,  quick,  down 
town.” 

Poor  Gabriel  occasionally  drank,  so  he  was  held 
guilty  of  that  this  time,  as  there  was  nothing  at 
Mis’  Anne’s  to  support  his  storj'.  But  it  put  us 
all  astir,  for  there  seemed  some  foundation.  My 
nurse  promptly  assumed  the  ghost  theory  and 
mourned  accordingly  when — enter  ghost!  — in 
the  life,  but  not  in  the  flesh,  for  he  was  awfully 
worn. 

Gabriel  was  a proud  man  now  that  he  was  justi- 
fied. Mr.  Fremont  had  waked  him  as  he  insisted, 
and  had  hurried  off  from  the  stable  toward  Mrs. 
Potts’  house,  the  parsonage  adjoining  the  Presby- 
terian church.  There,  he  could  only  enter  by 
ringing,  and  that  would  rouse  the  family.  Mr. 
Potts  had  hemorrhage  of  the  lungs,  and  it  would 
be  a risk  to  him  to  be  suddenly  waked.  Day  was 
near  breaking,  so  he  thought  he  would  walk  about 
until  some  servant  should  be  stirring. 

The  only  green  spot  with  trees  was  the  open 
ground  in  front  of  Barnum’s  hotel,  and  there  he 


SAINT  LOUIS. 


sat  on  a bench  watching  for  the  slow  stars  to  grow 
pale.  One  of  the  hotel  people  seeing  the  uniform 
came  out  and  hospitably  offered  a room,  when  he 
recognized  Mr.  Fremont,  who  explained  his  wait- 
ing there. 

Every  one  knew  each  other  yet,  though  Saint 
Louis  was  now  a large  city.  Mr.  Potts  was  greatly 
loved  and  this  care  for  his  rest  was  understood. 
Mr.  Fre'mont  could  not  refuse  the  offered  room 
and  bed  pressed  on  him  — the  first  bed  he  had 
seen  in  eighteen  months.  He  had  no  longer  any 
responsibilities,  or  anxieties ; he  knew  we  were  all 
well ; it  was  dark  still,  and  so  it  fell  that  sleep 
came  ’on  him  — the  exquisite  sleep  of  body  and 
mind  at  rest  — and  this  gave  time  for  Gabriel’s 
ghost  story  to  travel  from  house  to  house,  for  the 
sun  was  well  up  before  a break  came  to  that  deep 
wholesome  sleep.  And  once  awake  he  met  such 
a welcome  all  along  his  way  that  we  had  become 
completely  puzzled  about  him.  The  parsonage 
was  thronged  with  welcoming  friends,  and  we  left 
for  Washington  with  the  most  hearty  good  wishes 
for  both  of  us. 


i66 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


After  this,  and  with  all  my  happy  memories  of 
Saint  Louis,  think  how  hard  it  was  to  go  back 
there  to  the  feeling  that  met  us  in  ’6i — in  the 
beginning  of  the  war. 

Everything  was  changed.  There  was  no  life  on 
the  river ; the  many  steamboats  were  laid  up  at 
their  wharves,  their  fires  out,  the  singing,  cheery 
crews  gone  — they,  empty,  swaying  idly  with  the 
current.  As  we  drove  through  the  deserted  streets 
we  saw  only  closed  shutters  to  warehouses  and 
business  places ; the  wheels  and  the  horses’  hoofs 
echoed  loud  and  harsh  as  when  one  drives  through 
the  silent  streets  late  in  the  night. 

It  was  a hostile  city  and  showed  itself  as  such. 

One  gentle  touch  from  the  past  softened  this, 
hly  cousin  herself  was  absent,  and  her  family  was 
in  France,  but  she  had  written  to  her  man-of-busi- 
ness  to  meet  us  and  take  us  to  her  beautiful  house 
where  we  had  always  felt  at  home.  More  than 
ever  it  seemed  home  now ; the  old  butler,  “ uncle  ” 
Vincent,  slow  and  gray,  met  and  welcomed  us,  and 
from  the  wall  smiled  down  in  lasting  youth  and 
sweetness  the  young  cousin  who  had  known  but 


SAINT  LOUIS. 


167 


seventeen  happy  and  beloved  years.  Into  that 
upper  parlor  where  the  closer  family  life  had  left 
its  impress  many  troubled  men  came  and  found 
moments  of  rest.  My  cousin  insisted  we  should 
use  the  house  as  we  needed  and  it  became  the 
Headquarters  of  the  Western  Department.  Stand- 
ing in  its  own  grounds  with  three  streets  border- 
ing them,  it  was  convenient  for  the  review  of  the 
regiments  which  came  pouring  in  from  neighbor- 
ing States.  This  is  not  the  place  to  begin  to  tell 
of  that  mighty  time.  I only  speak  of  the  bit  of 
home  surviving  the  storm  of  war  and  giving  us 
this  ark  with  some  household  gods  still  left  in  it. 
There  came  the  good  Dorothea  Dix,  “ given  of 
Heaven  ” surely,  for  the  help  of  the  insane  and 
prisoners,  and  now  of  the  sick  and  wounded.  And 
there  came,  every  evening,  after  the  army  left,  the 
good  Admiral  Foote,  whose  heart  was  sore  that 
the  work  on  the  gunboats  was  stopped  and  precious 
time  being  given  to  the  enemy  to  fortify.  And 
there  came  General  Sherman  while  waiting  orders 
— out  of  favor  because  he  had  said  not  sixty  nor 
ninety  thousand  men,  nor  two  hundred  thousand 


i68 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


could  end  the  war.  And  there  General  Grant  was 
given  his  first  command  — and  many  and  many  a 
link  of  historical  interest  connects  with  that  stately 
house  which  was  now  all  that  was  left  me  of  past 
days. 

Though  the  old  kind  feeling  crept  out  in  side 
ways.  Fine  old  linen,  bottles  of  good  wine,  would 
be  sent  to  me,  without  names,  but  with  a line  to 
say  they  were  for  the  sick  in  hospital ; and  one 
said,  “ Not  sent  to  the  wife  of  the  Yankee  General, 
but  to  the  daughter  of  Mrs.  Benton  who  always 
gave  to  all  needing  help.” 

Of  all  wars  none  can  approach  a civil  war  for 
distressing  complications.  I went  there  in  July 
with  brown  hair,  and  came  away  in  November 
gray. 

A later  memory  is  of  a beautiful  day  of  honors 
and  good-will  and  a revival  of  old  friendly  feelings 
which  came  comfortingly,  and  remains  the  govern- 
ing impression. 

In  the  summer  of  ’68  I was  invited  to  come  to 
Saint  Louis  and  unveil  a statue  of  my  father.  It 
was  a bronze,  cast  in  Munich,  and  on  the  pedestal 


SAINT  LOUIS. 


169 


were  his  words  which  time  had  made  into  a proph- 
ecy, though  for  many  years  they  had  the  usual  fate 
of  ideas  in  advance  of  the  public.  I had  seen  per- 
sons smile  significantly  to  each  other,  some  even 
touch  their  foreheads  with  a gesture  to  intimate 
that  much  thinking  on  this  subject  had  warped  his 
mind  — it  is  so  much  easier  to  imagine  one’s  self 
superior  than  to  be  really  so.  “ Men  said  he  was 
mad,  now  they  asked  had  he  a God  ? ” 

For  on  this  pedestal,  where  the  bronze  hand  of 
the  statue  points  west^  are  the  words : 

“There  is  the  East.” 

“There  lies  the  road  to  India.” 

From  his  long  intimacy  with  the  old  explorer  of 
the  Oregon  and  the  instructive  talks  with  not  only 
General  Clarke  but  many  and  many  a fur-trader  and 
trapper  and  “ mountain-man  ” — from  the  mission- 
ary priests  — from  all  sources  my  father  gathered 
in  and  pondered  on  all  he  gathered  of  this  great 
vague  Western  land  of  ours  with  its  one  only  diffi- 
cult harbor  at  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia. 

He  remembered  that  in  the  War  of  1812  Com* 


170 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


modore  Porter,  the  father  of  our  Admiral  Porter, 
for  want  of  an  American  port  had  to  destroy  about 
eighty  ships  taken  by  him  in  the  Pacific.  Many 
were  whalers,  and  their  loss  told  on  London  itself. 
It  was  said  of  Commodore  Porter  in  Parliament, 
that  “ he  had  caused  the  lights  of  London  to  burn 
dim  for  a year”  — but  think  of  the  prize  money 
he  lost ! 

It  became  my  father’s  fixed  idea,  with  a growth 
proportioned  to  the  greatness  of  the  subject,  that 
this  great  West  must  be  opened  to  emigration,  and, 
when  possible,  a good  harbor  secured  on  the  Pacific. 
You  may  say  the  good  harbor,  for  there  is  but  the 
one  — that  of  San  Francisco. 

Was  it  not  a good  fortune  that  I should  make 
the  connecting  link  between  my  father's  thought, 
and  that  thought  made  action  by  Mr.  Fre'mont  — 
between  the  thought  that  shaped  and  planned,  and 
the  plan  made  living  by  action  expanded  as  cir- 
cumstances gave  opportunity ! 

Nothing  would  have  been  more  easy  than  to  have 
Mr.  Fremont  kept  on  duty  in  Washington;  but  he 
had  been  already  some  years  on  the  sur\-eys  of  the 


SAINT  LOUIS. 


I71 

Upper  Mississippi  and  had  known  the  inspiration 
and  largeness  of  the  great  prairies,  and  the  stories 
of  the  Rocky  Mountains  aud  the  unknown  land 
beyond  were  already  to  him,  as  to  my  father,  of  the 
deepest  interest.  So  the  two  minds  and  wills  be- 
came one,  and  step  by  step  their  work  was  accom- 
plished. 

To  me,  the  Westward  history  of  our  country  has 
been  not  alone  its  public  phase,  but  the  fireside 
talking  and  planning  the  weighing  of  obstacles, 
and  wise  foresight  of  opposition  — all  rightly  esti- 
mated, but  none  suffered  to  outbalance  the  one  aim  : 
the  opening  up  of  our  Western  country  to  the  Pacific 
coast,  and  the  acquiring  more  of  that  coast.  Louis- 
iana, Florida,  Texas,  all  had  been  acquired  in  my 
father’s  earlier  day ; he  knew  the  opposition  each 
had  met,  and  did  not  intend  to  have  it  roused  in 
advance  to  interfere  with  what  he  knew  then,  and 
what  our  whole  country  to-day  knows,  was  a crown- 
ing advantage  to  our  national  strength  — the  hold- 
ing the  best  port  on  the  North  Pacific.  When  there 
rose  a cloud  of  war  between  us  and  Mexico  the 
opportunity  came.  And  it  resulted  in  our  taking 


172 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


California.  With  his  compelling  will,  and  his  politi- 
cal strength  in  Washington,  and  his  certainty  of 
long  and  complete  understanding  and  faithful  co- 
operation and  the  using  of  every  favoring  chance 
by  Mr.  Fremont,  my  father  could  act  with  apparent 
suddenness  — but  officially  it  was  only  giving  the 
expected  signal.  And  he  knew  who  he  had  to 
rely  on. 

How  it  would  have  gratified  my  father  could  he 
have  seen  that  splendid  May-day  fete  in  his  honor. 

Often  I feel  what  a mistake  it  is  to  let  our  great 
men  go  uncheered  by  the  vitalizing  force  of  affec- 
tionate esteem  in  which  so  many  have  really  been 
held.  As  a people  we  are  growing  more  natural 
and  direct  in  such  expressions,  but  to  reserve  them 
for  funeral  honors  can  bring  no  comfort  or 
strength  then  to  the  strong  brain  that  labored  for 
them. 

The  large  Park  was  filled  with  a holiday  crowd  — 
over  forty  thousand,  I was  told.  The  children  of  the 
public  schools,  dressed  in  white,  and,  boys  as  well 
as  girls,  carrying  large  bunches  of  roses  — my 
father’s  favorite  flower,  were  grouped,  many  thou- 


SAINT  LOUIS. 


173 

sands  of  them,  around  the  base  of  the  slight  rise  on 
which  the  statue  had  been  placed ; toward  the 
valley  below,  the  trees  and  shrubbery  had  been 
chared,  leaving  an  open  view  of  the  line  of  the 
Pacific  Railway. 

By  a strange  chance  all  the  family  were  dis- 
persed — some  in  California,  some  in  Europe. 
Only  Mr.  Fremont  and  myself  could  he  present. 
And  I took  with  me  as  part  of  the  old  home  one 
person,  my  grandfather’s  faithful  body-servant 
Ralph.  My  parents  gave  him  his  freedom  after 
my  grandfather’s  death,  but  after  trying  various 
things  he  came  back  to  his  own  family  and  lived 
with  us  “ on  wages  ” as  long  as  any  of  the  elders 
remained.  Then  he  settled  in  Saint  Louis  and  was 
now  a trusted  man  in  a bank  there. 

My  grandfather  at  a race  in  Richmond  bought  the 
winning  horse,  jockey  and  all — in  the  sad  fashion  of 
that  day;  the  little  jockey,  Ralph,  was  from  the 
Brandon  estate  of  the  Harrison’s  and  called  himself 
always  Ralph  Harrison  of  Brandon.  Did  not  the 
statue  mark  wonderful  progress  in  our  country  ? not 
only  the  completed  ownership  and  occupation  of  a 


174 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


new  empire  on  that  Pacific  coast,  but  there,  and 
everywhere  in  all  our  country — free  labor. 

As  the  veil  fell  away  from  the  statue,  its  bronze 
gilded  with  the  warm  sunshine,  the  children  threw 
their  roses  at  its  base  ; at  the  same  moment  the  out 
going  train  to  San  Francisco  halted  and  saluted 
with  whistles  and  flags ; and  when  the  speaker  of 
the  day  dwelt  on  the  public  schools,  and  home- 
stead laws,  which  had  been  cherished  measures 
of  my  father’s,  who  felt  for  all  children,  women  and 
helpless  people,  all  knew  he  deserved  the  words  of 
praise  given  him. 

He  could  not  hear  these  ; but  he  had  seen  suc- 
cess come  to  his  hope  of  a country  bathed  by  both 
oceans  — from  his  own  home  and  hearth  had  gone 
forth  the  one  who  carried  his  ideas  to  fullest 
execution.  And  after  many  perils  and  long  absences 
and  doubts  and  fears  all  had  ended  like  a fair}' 
tale  in  everything  his  heart  could  wish ; for  wealth 
and  leisure  came  with  the  new  countr}',  and  we 
were  back  with  him  — back,  even  to  a seat  in  the 
Senate  beside  him  for  the  one  we  had  often  feared 
would  return  no  more. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


NEW  ORLEANS PANAMA. 

New  ORLEANS  was,  as  it  called  itself  in  old 
days,  “ a little  Paris  in  America.”  They  held 
fast  to  every  French  usage  and  prejudice  ; and,  as 
the  wealthy  planters  sent  their  sons  to  France  and 
put  their  daughters  in  convents  for  their  education, 
their  ideas  were  so  shaped  that  the  younger  genera- 
tion remained  as  completely  foreigners  in  thought 
and  feeling  as  their  fathers  and  grandfathers,  who 
never  ceased  their  resentment  and  regret  at  having 
been  deprived  of  their  French  nationality. 

Added  to  this  came  much  worry  regarding  their 
titles  to  their  lands.  It  is  not  an  honorable  chapter 
in  American  history  that  records  our  dealings  with 
weaker  peoples.  The  Louisiana  purchase  brought 
upon  its  old  settlers  much  of  the  same  bad  faith 
and  injustice  I have  seen  imposed  upon  the  original 


*75 


176 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


holders  of  lands  in  California ; notwithstanding  the 
treaty  so  carefully  made  to  protect  them. 

My  father  was  the  friend  as  well  as  the  lawyer 
of  many  of  these  French  landholders,  and  when 
the  troubling  law-matters  brought  them  to  the 
Supreme  Court  in  Washington  they  were  naturally 
much  at  our  house  where  they  could  find  their 
own  language  even  among  us  children.  One,  Mon- 
sieur Canonge,  insisted  my  sister  and  myself  should 
come  to  a great  dinner  he  gave  my  father  on  one 
of  our  visits  to  New  Orleans.  I was  but  twelve  ; 
but  I am  always  pleased  I was  let  to  go,  for  it 
remains  as  the  most  delicately  splendid  feast  I ever 
saw,  though  climate  necessarily  gave  some  of  its 
most  charming  features. 

The  house  was  built  on  three  sides  around  a court 
of  fresh  green  with  fountain  and  flowers,  the  fourth 
side  being  open  to  a lovely  garden  with  all  its 
tropical  beauty  brought  to  perfection  by  French 
gardening  of  the  old  stately  school. 

The  first  part  of  the  dinner  was  taken  in  a noble 
room  with  all  the  silver  and  splendors  of  a great 
house ; but  for  the  dessert  we  went  into  another 


NEW  ORLEANS PANAMA.  177 

room,  large  and  lofty  and  opening  wide  upon  the 
garden,  where  the  moonlight  was  making  fairy 
effects  on  the  feathery  foliage  and  changed  the  spray 
of  the  fountains  to  showering  diamond  dust.  The 
table  was  covered  with  flowers,  and  all  its  service 
was  crystal  and  gold ; the  Venetian  glass  chandelier, 
with  its  many  wax  lights  reflected  in  the  prismatic 
glass,  was  so  wreathed  and  hung  with  flowers  as  to 
make  a subdued  charming  light  on  the  table  which 
had  on  it  only  fruits  and  ices  and  fragrant  wines.  In 
a wide  circle  were  young  slaves  in  white,  each  with  a 
great  long-handled  fan  of  peacock’s  feathers  which 
they  waved  gently  — fanning  the  air  in  the  same 
way  as  the  punkah-wallahs”  of  India.  Large 
mirrors  lined  the  room  and  repeated  this  lovely  pict- 
ure of  softly  brilliant  light  on  flowers  and  waving 
peacock  plumes,  and  made  an  endless  vista  of  the 
garden  and  fountains  whose  fragrant  freshness 
gave  both  animation  and  repose. 

Among  these  planters  wealth  had  been  inherited 
and  was  easily  maintained  in  lavish  increase.  They 
had  no  need  to  take  thought  for  to-morrow  — their 
future  as  well  as  their  past  seemed  equally  secure. 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


At  home  in  Virginia  we  had  some  few  peacocks, 
but  the  effect  of  a warm  climate  gave  so  much  more 
brilliancy  and  size  to  these  plumes  that  my  mother 
spoke  of  it  admiringly ; to  her  dismay,  Madame 
Canonge  sent  to  her  the  ne.xt  day  several  of  these 
great  fans ; it  was  dangerous  to  praise  anything,  it 
was  sent  to  you  at  once. 

Every  morning  one  and  another  sent  to  my 
mother  such  quantities  of  dowers  and  fruits  that  it 
became  embarrassing  how  to  dispose  of  them. 

One  family  we  knew  decided  it  would  be  for  the 
future  good  of  their  sons  to  be  “ brought  up  as 
Americans ; ” so  they  sent  them  to  Baltimore,  to 
the  Catholic  College  there.  With  them  was  sent 
their  nurse!  A fine-looking  middle-aged  French 
quadroon  w’ho  could  not  understand  why  boys  of 
ten  and  twelve  could  not  keep  their  nurse  at  a col- 
lege. She  came  to  us  at  Washington,  weeping  and 
angiy,  to  ask  my  father’s  intercession  with  the 
Reverend  Fathers;  for,  “ Hov/  can  the  children 
dress  themselves  ? who  will  do  their  hair?  and  their 
nails?”  she  said. 

Poor  souls  — they  had  no  idea  of  the  broken 


NEW  ORLEANS  — PANAMA. 


179 


fingers  and  other  base-ball  damages,  or  the  rough, 
rough  training  English  and  American  boys  undergo. 

Before  these  boys  were  half-way  through  life  all 
this  established  wealth  had  vanished  — its  very 
foundation  gone.  No  softness  or  luxury  for  them 
now.  Yet  such  boys  as  these,  and  thousands 
more  from  homes  as  tender  if  not  so  splendid, 
proved  themselves  of  noble  endurance  under  every 
trial  of  war ; and  now  under  the  bitter  ordeal  of 
lost  fortunes  they  are  rebuilding  the  South. 

We  are  too  close  to  the  greatest  period  in  our 
nation’s  history  to  take  it  in  just  proportion  — the 
details  are  as  yet  the  most  conspicuous. 

But  it  was  an  epic  poem  in  action,  and  brought 
out  character  as  only  such  rare  epochs  can  ; while 
it  leaves  us,  as  one  result,  the  most  honorable 
pride  in  all  our  people. 

When  it  became  too  warm  in  town  for  our  poor 
little  invalid  we  would  go  across  Lake  Pontchar- 
train  to  Madisonville,  a summer  settlement  on  the 
deep,  narrow  Chifuncte  River;  its  dark  waters 
overhung  and  darkened  still  more  by  the  great 
boughs  of  the  live  oaks.  Just  back  of  this  lay 


l8o  SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 

the  pine  barrens ; all  loose  deep  sand  so  thickly 
overgrown  with  tall  pine-trees  that  the  sun  only 
flickers  through  their  lofty  green  heads. 

They  show  you  the  road  cut  through  these  for 
Jackson’s  artillery  to  come  up  to  him  for  the  battle 
of  New  Orleans. 

Around  the  houses  by  the  river  were  beautiful 
gardens,  but  the  plague  of  mosquitoes  was  everj-- 
where  — day  and  night.  The  bird  cages,  even  the 
chicken  coops,  had  their  mosquito  nettings,  and 
children  played  under  portable  tents  of  netting. 
This  was  supposed  to  be  a resort  for  fresh  air  and 
reviving  breezes  from  the  Gulf;  but  after  such 
warmed  air  as  that  the  luxury  of  luxuries  is  a real 
sea  wind  that  you  feel  blowing  through  and  through 
you  with  clean  sweet  freshness  and  giving  an 
energy  impossible  in  “dose  climate.” 

How  I longed  for  such  life-giving  winds  when  I 
was  detained  nearly  two  months  in  Panama  on  my 
first  voyage  to  California  “in  ’49,” for  I too  was  an 
Argonaut.  The  steamer  which  had  gone  up  to  San 
Francisco,  the  first  that  entered  that  harbor,  could 
not  return  for  they  could  not  get  a crew;  what 


NEW  ORLEANS — PANAMA,  l8l 

man  would  be  a fireman  on  a voyage  to  the  tropics 
when  his  two  hands  could  gather  gold  in  that  love- 
liest climate  of  California  ? But  what  was  good 
for  the  fireman  was  bad  for  us ; each  steamer  on 
the  Atlantic  side  brought  its  crowd  for  whom  there 
was  no  transportation  away  from  this  unwholesome 
fever-land.  Thousands  were  banked  up  in  Panama 
watching  for  “ a sail  ” like  shipwrecked  people.  Any 
sailing  vessel,  unfit  or  fit,  was  eagerly  taken  by  the 
waiting  men ; and  badly  manned  and  fitted  out 
they  took  their  risks  of  the  sea  rather  than  bear 
the  ills  they  were  suffering  from  the  deadly  climate. 
My  stay  there  would  have  been  most  dreary  but 
for  that  cordon  of  personal  kindness  and  mutual 
help,  of  which  there  is  so  much  that  it  counter- 
balances the  selfish  indifference  of  which  there  is 
so  much  too. 

General  Herran,  the  Minister  from  New  Granada, 
was  among  our  friends  in  Washington  who  had 
great  interest  in  my  voyage,  which  was  then  truly 
formidable.  His  family  connection  was  large  and 
important,  and  to  some  living  in  Panama  he  gave 
me  letters  of  introduction  ; writing  to  them  also  of 


i82 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


my  home  in  a way  that  made  them  take  me  Into 
theirs,  and  their  family  intimacy.  One  lady,  a 
widow,  simply  insisted  on  my  coming  to  her  and 
being  one  of  her  children  — the  “hotel”  she  said 
was  impossible  for  me  ; and  a few  days  of  it  made 
me  sure  one  need  be  blind  and  deaf  to  stay  there. 
As  the  unforeseen  delay  stretched  on  from  week  to 
week  I had  increasing  reason  to  be  grateful  to 
Madame  Arce  for  making  me  part  of  her  home. 

How  pleased  she  was  that  I knew  Spanish,  and 
how  it  pleased  my  father  to  read  my  letters  show- 
ing how  his  forethought  had  equipped  me  for  the 
battle  of  life  — that  terrible  ordeal  from  which  no 
human  love  can  protect  the  most  cherished  child. 

My  Saint  Louis  and  New  Orleans  ways  of  living 
made  this  Spanish  life  familiar  in  many  aspects. 
Here  too  were  the  houses  built  around  a court,  but 
larger,  and  having  large  gardens  where  palms  and 
waving  feathery-leaved  cocoa-nut  trees  shaded  the 
great  tank  which  made  the  water  supply  of  each 
house.  There  w'as  no  living  on  a ground  floor.  In 
hot  latitudes  health  obliges  you  to  live  high  above 
the  ground  ; w'here,  lifted  high,  we  had  a glorious 


NEW  ORLEANS PANAMA.  183 

picture  of  sea  and  sky  of  intense  cloudless  blue, 
against  which  the  tropical  green  of  the  cocoas  and 
palms  and  the  rich  pink  of  the  oleander-trees  made 
a feast  of  warm  color.  Their  lives  needed  large 
houses  for  they  concentrated  on  home.  They  only 
left  the  house  for  early  mass,  for  very  early,  or  very 
late  visits  among  themselves,  or  a walk  on  the  ram- 
parts in  the  brief  cool  moments  before  the  sun  went 
down ; in  the  sudden  way  of  the  tropics  which 
makes  you  appreciate  the  Ancient  Mariner’s 

Down  went  the  sun, 

Up  rose  the  moon, 

for  sun  and  moon  have  no  gradual  steps  at  nine 
degrees  above  the  equator. 

But  there  is  “ no  rush  ” among  the  people. 
“ The  land  of  manana  ” extends  over  this  Spanish- 
speaking people  also.  Among  the  refined  and  edu- 
cated families  I knew,  this  relaxing  atmosphere  had 
only  made  gentleness  and  a sweet  simple  courtesy 
the  habit  and  rule  of  life.  With  children  and 
servants  also  there  was  the  same  softened  amiable 
manner.  Narcissa  and  Candelaria  (both  colored). 


184 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


one  old  and  gray,  the  other  vivid  in  her  youth, 
were  my  special  attendants  — their  trailing  velvety 
voices,  their  noiseless  movements  reposed  me  as 
did  the  placid  gentle  lives  of  the  ladies  around 
me.  With  all  their  soft  ways  however  the  duty  of 
head-of-the-family  was  well  carried  out ; and  it  was 
sweet  to  see  the  grown  sons  of  Madame  Arce  com- 
ing to  her  in  consultation  on  business,  kissing  her 
hand  when  they  left,  while  she,  laying  a thin  hand  on 
the  rich  black  hair,  with  an  upward  look  to  the 
shrine  of  the  Madonna,  had  no  doubts  or  questions 
to  mar  her  practice  and  faith  in  a mother’s  love; 
and  her  orphan  grandsons  as  well  as  her  sons  gave 
her  the  respect  and  love  she  so  well  desem-ed. 

“ The  rainy  season  came  on,  and  with  my  home- 
sickness, and  the  painful  news  that  came  to  me  of 
the  sufferings  of  Mr.  Fre'mont’s  party,  I became  ill, 
the  fever  going  to  the  lungs.  Now  I felt  the  value 
and  comforting  of  this  tender  domestic  life.  Had 
I been  her  daughter,  Madame  Arce  could  not  have 
given  me  more  thorough  care.  Good  old  withered 
Narcissa  would  mourn  over  me  that  I was  “so  far 
from  my  own  country  ’’  — ay pobrecita  ! tan  Igodesus 


NEW  ORLEANS — PANAMA.  185 

pais — and  be  pleased  to  tears  when  I enjoyed  the 
refreshing  preparations  of  fruit  she  made  so  well. 
When  I was  out  of  danger  all  the  connection 
showed  me  their  kind  feeling.  They  had  made 
special  prayers  for  me  at  the  Cathedral  and  one 
had  vowed  to  supply  the  hospital  with  limes  for 
the  rainy  season  if  I recovered.  How  all  this 
touched  my  home  people  ! Coming  back  through 
Panama  a year  after,  I carried  their  offering  to  the 
hospital. 

But  this  was  only  a rest  by  the  wayside. 

Into  the  quiet  of  a night  there  came  the  signal 
gun  of  a steamer.  The  silence  of  the  town  gave 
way  to  wild  excitement  as  the  imprisoned  Ameri- 
cans rushed  to  the  ramparts  while  the  native 
Indians,  always  on  the  alert  for  excitement,  crowded 
the  streets  dancing  and  singing  and  shouting,  “ el 
Vapor!"  And  when  another  gun  announced  a 
second  steamer,  it  was  Bedlam  let  loose.  From  our 
high  balcony  we  saw  big  men  crying  and  embracing 
one  another  with  excited  joy  — it  was  the  being 
taken  off  a desert  island  for  them.  One  ship  was 
from  around  the  Horn,  the  Panama^  the  other,  the 


i86 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


California,  had  managed  to  get  a crew  to  bring  her 
down.  She  had  no  trouble  about  willing  men  to 
take  her  up  again  ! 

The  captain  of  the  Panama,  and  a naval  officer  of 
our  friends  came  at  once  to  tell  me  I was  to  go  up 
on  the  Pana7na  which  could  continue  her  voyage, 
and  so  came  the  parting  with  these  friends,  but  I 
saw  them  again  whenever  I crossed  the  Isthmus. 

If  when  looking  back  to  Saint  Louis  I feel  its 
fresh  life,  cheerful  movement  and  ample  outlook 
in  refreshing  contrast  to  the  metes  and  bounds  and 
endeavors  to  repeat  past  phases  of  life  of  the  East, 
how  can  I tell  all  that  name,  “ California,”  repre- 
sents ? If  our  East  has  a life  of  yesterday,  and  the 
West  of  to-day,  then  here  to-morrow  had  come.  It 
was  discounted  anyway,  and  made  good  too.  What 
a dream  of  daring  young  energy'  — of  possibility  — 
of  certainties  — of  burdens  dropped  and  visions 
realized  ! A man  is  half-way  through  life  at  thirty- 
five  ; then  he  rela.xes  and  rests,  all  the  more  if  great 
success  has  come  to  him  easily.  He  may  fall  back 
to  the  need  for  exertion,  but  the  courage  and  im- 
petus of  great  days  remain  to  him. 


NEW  ORLEANS  — PANAMA. 


187 


California  has  of  late  been  resting  from  her 
glorious  youth.  Now,  soberer  middle-age  has 
come ; but  all  that  made  her  splendor  is  there  — 
sure  — and  giving  its  returns  for  steady  care. 

To  me  it  was  the  Land  of  Promise  and  glad- 
ness.  Getting  to  San  Francisco  in  the  windy 
weather  of  June,  a bad  cough  was  added  to  the 
hurt  to  the  lungs  left  by  my  Panama  illness,  and 
I was  taken  to  the  softer  air  of  Monterey.  I met 
there  a young  officer,  thin  to  gauntness,  and  not 
considered  more  likely  to  live  than  myself.  To 
that  exquisite  pine  and  sea  air  we  each  owe  new 
life.  As  it  chanced,  we  did  not  meet  again  until 
the  end  of  our  late  war  when  General  Sherman  and 
myself,  talking  over  those  Monterey  days,  thought 
we  had  been  of  some  use  for  people  given  up  as 
“ consumptive.” 

I had  gone  up  the  coast  fearing  the  news  I might 
meet  of  Mr.  Fremont’s  winter  journey  overland.  Its 
cruel  sufferings  when  he  was  midway,  I learned  at 
Panama,  but  kept  on  my  way  refusing  to  give  up 
even  in  my  own  mind  to  the  doubts  almost  every 
one  had  of  his  getting  through. 


i88 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


At  the  first  California  port,  San  Diego,  we  met 
the  news  that  he  had  arrived  and  hurried  on  to  San 
Francisco.  I think  every  man  on  the  ship  came  to 
tell  me  and  say  a choking  word  of  joy  for  me. 

Then,  and  through  all  that  voyage,  when  for  the 
first  time  in  my  sheltered  life  I was  alone  to  meet 
whatever  befell  me,  I felt  the  comforting  power  of 
that  manly  friendliness  our  American  men  give  to 
any  women  meeting  the  blows  of  fate  ; both  my 
names  were  household  words  to  many  and  gave 
an  additional  feeling  of  kindness  towards  me. 

When  Mr.  Fremont  was  chosen  Senator  it  sent  me 
back  to  my  old  home  — so  that  California  brought 
me  health  after  illness,  and  wealth  and  honors. 
There  was  my  home.  There  was  my  future.  When 
the  death  of  my  parents  left  me  no  divided  feelings 
I no  longer  looked  back  ; as  every'  woman  from 
Lot’s  wife  through,  must  when  parting  from  home. 
“ The  household  gods  are  slow  to  consecrate  a new 
hearth.”  Our  war  made  a break  and  brought  us 
back  to  this  side  of  the  country,  and  since  then  a 
singular  and  prolonged  injustice  on  the  part  of  our 
Government  has  kept  my  California  home  from  me. 


* » . 


I 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


CALIFORNIA. 

TT  is  presumption  to  put  that  comprehensive 
name  to  this  fragmentary  brief  paper,  when 
the  space  given  me  would  not  answer  for  a mere 
index  of  the  many  delightful  pictures  memory 
brings  up  ; episodes  illustrating  character  under 
new  and  trying  conditions,  with  results  chiefly 
good — even  under  the  test  of  sudden  and  great 
success. 

My  geese  are  not  all  swans  as  good  Judge  Black 
once  growled  at  me  ; but  I detest  what  is  unlovely 
and  of  bad  repute,  and  such  things  find  no  inten- 
tional remembering  from  me. 

Even  in  ’49  when  we  were  pretty  much  in  the 
conditions  of  shipwrecked  people  where  each  one 
becomes  a law  to  himself,  the  element  of  good 
decidedly  prevailed.  And  California  does  not  owe 
1S9 


igo 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


her  beautiful  harvests  of  grain  and  wine  and  fruits 
to  fitful  use  of  energies.  To  be  sure  the  climate 
makes  unbroken  energetic  health.  A young 
friend,  who  had  grown  up  in  the  interior,  said 
very  fairly  when  in  Washington  : “ It  is  very  easy 
to  kept  Lent  here  on  shad  and  terrapin,  but  on 
salt-fish  it  is  a penance.”  Winters  below  zero  with 
pneumonia  attached,  and  ninety  degrees  and  sun- 
strokes for  summer,  allow  no  such  vitality  as  is  the 
rule  in  “that  fair  land  of  flowers.”  Exertion  is  a 
penance  half  the  time  here. 

I wish  I could  tell  you  of  my  lovely  camping- 
out  travel  for  months ; of  my  visits  by  the  way  to 
the  ranches  of  the  native  Californians  and  their 
genuine  hospitality  and  their  good  housekeeping ; 
their  immense  families  — fourteen,  twenty,  even 
twenty-six  children,  among  whom  sickness  was  un- 
known, and  the  wonderful  grandmothers  — all 
were  proofs  of  the  fine  climate.  One  of  these 
grandmothers,  a Madame  Castro,  over  eighty  when 
I saw  her,  remains  to  me  a type  of  this  patriarchal 
and  contented  people  as  they  were  until  we  brought 
among  them  our  American  unrest  and  turmoil. 


CALIFORNIA. 


I9I 

She  wished  to  thank  me  in  person  for  “ Don 
Flemon’s  ” protection  of  all  women  daring  the 
military  movements  in  taking  the  country;  she 
was  old,  so  she  sent  me  word,  but  would  come  to 
see  me  in  Monterey  if  sure  of  finding  me  there. 

I had  the  only  carriage  in  the  country  — built 
in  New  Jersey  for  me  and  shipped  out  months 
before,  so  that  I found  my  transportation  ready. 

The  trouble  of  finding  any  animals  that  would 
submit  to  harness  would  make  a story  to  charm 
boys.  They  had  to  give  up  and  let  me  have  mules 
however,  for  it  made  me  wild  with  fright  too,  to 
carry  on  the  experiments  with  bucking,  rearing, 
backing  horses,  screaming  and  sweating  with  ter- 
ror. 

It  was  my  Pullman  car,  for  in  it  I could  sleep  by 
night,  and  go  comfortably  wherever  wheels  could 
go.  The  California  women  travelled  but  little  and 
that  on  horseback,  or  in  the  slow  heavy  creaking 
carreta,  a low  wagon-body  without  a spring,  with 
solid  wood  wheels,  and  drawn  by  oxen.  I would 
not  let  the  old  lady  be  jolted  in  that  way  for  me 
and  went  willingly  enough  to  her. 


ig2 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


The  want  of  undergrowth,  the  beautiful  grasses 
and  wild  flowers  and  the  fine  trees  made  all  the 
coast-countr)"  look  like  parks,  and  the  framing  of 
landscape  for  the  family  picture  was  good  w’hen 
we  reached  the  group  waiting  us  in  front  of  the 
long  low  house. 

There  was  fashion,  even  here.  It  was  “de 
modo  ” to  wear  on  fine  occasions  a full  petticoat 
of  scarlet  broadcloth  with  points  of  green  silk, 

N. 

stitched  beautifully  point  upward,  as  a border 
around  the  bottom.  Over  this  a gown  of  the  dull- 
toned  damasked  Chinese  satin.  Madame  Castro 
wore  the  obligatory  English  scarlet  cloth  petticoat 
and  her  gown  of  olive  satin  was  pulled  through 
the  pocket  holes  either  side,  making  a good  wat- 
teau  effect.  A small  crape  shawl  of  many  soft 
colors  was  crossed  over  the  breast  and  the  ends 
trimly  tucked  back.  Sunburned  and  naturally 
dark,  she  had  still  much  of  the  rich  color  of  the 
young  women  near  her.  Her  brilliant  black  eyes 
were  large  and  steady,  and  the  thick  white  hair 
made  a puff  as  it  was  turned  back  from  the  face 
and  coiled  in  a large  plait  at  the  neck.  Children, 


CALIFORNIA. 


193 


grandchildren  and  great-grandchildren  were  around 
her,  assembled  to  do  me  honor  — coming  forward, 
as  she  named  each,  with  smiles  that  showed  their 
beautiful  white  teeth  — as  fine  almost  in  the  ven- 
erable mother  of  all  as  in  the  Murillo  girls.  Her 
dignity  of  welcome,  and  the  good  she  invoked  for 
me  in  return  for  the  care  they  had  had  from  Mr. 
Fremont  was  sincere  and  impressive.  And  so 
beautifully  free  from  self-consciousness  ! 

She,  and  all  the  native  people,  were  erect  and  of 
free  firm  movement.  You  could  see  that  neither 
in  mind  or  body  had  they  known  depressing  influ- 
ences. 

I do  not  like  to  remember  how  we  changed  all 
that.  A carefully  drawn  treaty  had  guarded  their 
rights,  but  this  proved  of  no  avail. 

They  could  not  answer  the  searchers  of  titles  as 
that  fine  old  English  Earl  answered  King  John 
“ Lackland  ” ’s  commission  to  search,  and  confiscate 
to  the  crown  all  titles  not  seeming  to  them  sound ; 
flinging  his  big  sword  on  the  table  among  their  parch- 
ments, “ There  is  my  Title.  By  their  good  swords 
mine  ancestors  won  these  lands  and  by  my  sword 


194 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME, 


I will  hold  them ; ” for  these  were  only  a peace- 
ful people,  with  herds  and  flocks  and  fruits  and 
vines. 

The  men  lived  much  on  horseback  and  had 
excitement  and  pleasure  in  theirs  and  their  neigh- 
bors’ cattle  interests.  Dancing  and  abundant  but 
temperate  feasting  brought  together  the  families, 
and  though  I saw  this  only  in  its  dying  phase,  it 
was  even  then  “ enjoyment  ” — not  as  a phrase  but 
as  a fact. 

The  roomy  long  one-stor}^  houses  with  shaded 
courtyard  and  large  high-walled  garden  made  the 
boundary  of  the  women’s  lives.  Here  they  over- 
looked diligently  their  Indian  ser\-ant  girls  — bap- 
tized and  “Christians”  — who  were  good  at  fine 
sewing  and  in  cooking  food  which  was  savor)'  and 
wholesome.  We  could  turn  into  any  rancho  and 
find  this  same  contented  orderly  abundant  home 
living;  whatever  they  had  was  offered  without 
explanations  or  efforts  at  varying. 

No  end  of  fancy  needlework  decorated  their 
wearing  and  house-linen.  They  were  amused  that 
I should  admire  it  so  much ; like  their  good  cook- 


CALIFORNIA. 


195 


ery  it  was  the  survival  of  Spanish  convent-train- 
ing, coining  down  to  them  in  household  tradition 
and  therefore  only  matter-of-course. 

All  that  is  only  a memory  to  them  as  to  me.  It 
was  so  strangely  peaceful  and  contented  I like  to 
tell  of  it. 

It  would  take  a volume  to  record  what  I have 
seen  of  the  amazing  transformations  made  by  our 
own  people.  The  whole  California  chapter  is  one 
of  the  most  interesting  in  the  world’s  history  — 
so  rapid,  yet  so  useful  and  so  far-reaching  that  I 
can  recall  no  parallel.  One  would  have  to  go  very 
much  out  of  the  beaten  paths  now  to  find  anything 
peculiar  or  characteristic  ; the  Bret  Harte  models, 
like  the  buffalo,  disappeared  before  the  railways, 
for  peculiarities,  like  feuds,  “cannot  withstand  so- 
cial intercourse.” 

The  heat,  which  becomes  intense  in  these  inland 
valleys,  had  made  me  ill  and  I came  down,  rather 
suddenly,  from  our  mining  place  in  the  mountains 
to  San  Francisco  and  sea-air,  getting  a start  of 
twelve  miles  by  leaving  home  in  the  late  afternoon 
and  resting  for  the  night  at  Murray’s  — a comfort- 


196 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


able  inn  on  the  Merced  river.  The  good  bridge 
there,  and  Osborne’s  ferry  on  the  Touolumne,  and 
their  two  good  inns,  decided  the  route.  Having 
our  own  travelling  resources  we  chose  our  own 
hours.  We  had  a pair  of  horses  which  made  the 
eighty  miles  in  two  days,  getting  through  in  time 
for  the  afternoon  boat  from  Stockton,  where  they 
rested  until  the  return.  In  cool  weather  they  had 
several  times  made  it  in  one  day,  but  that  was 
necessity,  and  the  man  who  always  drove  them 
knew  how  to  spare  a horse  and  was  fond  of  these 
two.  “ Coachman  ” I cannot  call  him.  He  was  a 
spare,  wiry  Tennessee  Indian  with  enough  colored 
blood  to  have  been  a slave  ; he  had  freed  himself 
— sharply,  I fancy. 

For  years  he  had  been  the  most  noted  hunter, 
of  grizzly  bear  especially,  in  all  those  mountains  ; 
a silent  solitary  man,  who  chose  to  stay  with  us. 
He  loved  money,  but  money  alone  could  not  buy 
his  services.  He  was  a “ lucky  ” (persevering) 
miner  and  had  lived  to  himself ; but  he  had  a 
thorough  alleigance  to  Mr.  Fremont,  and  when  we 
went  up  there,  gave  to  my  youngest  boy,  a child 


CALIFORNIA. 


197 


of  three  years,  all  the  unused  tenderness  of  an 
embittered  nature. 

He  was  a character ; known  and  feared  — no 
man  ever  “fooled-round  ” Isaac,  and  as  he  was 
absolutely  sober  and  not  quarrelsome  (though 
swift  and  deadly  in  retaliation),  he  made  all  the 
guard  I needed. 

Soon  after  we  left  Murray’s  in  the  cool  gray 
morning,  we  met  a “ prairie  schooner  ” with  its 
twelve-in-hand  mule  team,  and  halted  for  Isaac 
to  ask  about  the  water  in  the  Touolumne,  a moun- 
tain river  with  sudden  rises  that  scared  me  when 
the  current  made  the  open  ferry-boat  sway  danger- 
ously off  from  the  rope. 

They  warned  us  we  could  not  rest  there  the 
afternoon  and  night  as  was  our  custom.  Mrs. 
Osborne  herself  had  left  because  of  diphtheria 
there,  “ bad.”  That  meant  no  rest  for  the  horses. 

Isaac  never  talked  or  exclaimed,  but  he  knew 
how  to  act. 

As  carefully  as  possible  he  worked  the  faithful 
horses,  but  the  heat  and  deep  hot  dust  were  hard 
on  them.  And  if  they  gave  out  there  was  not  a 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


198 

house  or  tree  or  water  for  stretches  of  ten  and 
twenty  miles. 

Isaac  was  alarmed  too  for  me,  and  grieved  for 
the  little  boy,  who  was  as  patient  and  reasonable 
as  he  was  miserable.  I did  almost  give  out,  but 
when  you  must  you  not  only  must  but  you  do. 
One  of  the  horses  began  to  suffer ; they  could 
not  know,  poor  things,  why  we  hurried  past  the 
big  barns  and  the  cool  shade  of  the  noble  oaks  at 
Osborne’s.  When  night  fell  still  a long  pull  to 
Stockton,  and  Prince’s  back  was  a limp  straight 
line  with  hanging  head  and  stumbling  feet. 

Suddenly  Isaac  turned  to  me  ; “ Now,  don’t  you 
say  nothing  — I’m  going  to  take  you  thar,  to  the 
Ten-mile  House.  Prince  can’t  go  any  further.” 

This  Ten-mile  House  we  always  gave  a wide 
berth  to  in  our  journeyings  — you  could  drive 
where  you  pleased  on  those  flat  treeless  plains,  and 
we  were  best  pleased  not  to  pass  through  that 
place;  a “wagon-stand  ” with  its  corral  and  barns 
and  smithy  on  one  side  of  the  road,  and  on  the 
other  a tavern,  whose  owner  was  a sinner  as 
well  as  a publican  if  report  was  true  ; and  the 


CALIFORNIA. 


199 


nearness  to  Stockton  made  it  a roughish  resort. 

This  was  about  as  bad  as  the  diphtheria  at 
Osborne’s  ; but  having  recognized  what  must  be 
done  Isaac  admitted  no  weak  side-issues. 

The  moon  was  up  and  curious  wagoners  came 
forward  — incredulous  — as  they  recognized  the 
carriage.  A brief  explanation  from  Isaac  made 
them  into  active  helpers  about  the  horses,  while 
Isaac  leading,  I and  the  child  followed  him  up  the 
path  of  the  enclosure  to  the  porch  of  the  tavern 
where  sat  an  enormously  large  old  man  who 
roared  at  us  as  we  neared  — asking.  Who  was  it  ?> 
What  did  we  want  that  time  o’  night } 

Recognizing  Isaac,  he  moderated,  but  broke 
out  afresh  at  my  name  — he  wanted  no  (very 
blank)  black  republicans  coming  into  Ais  house  — 
he  wouldn’t  have  any  fine  madam  there  anyhow. 

The  given-out  horse  — the  child  — the  sick 
woman  — “No!  no  I no!” 

“ Go  round  the  other  side  of  the  porch,”  directed 
Isaac,  “ where  you  can’t  hear  him.  He  can’t  come 
after  you  — he  can’t  git  about  without  help  — and 
nobody’s  going  to  help  him  /4A 


200 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


There  was  a little  two-pronged  oil-lamp  flaring 
away  in  the  window  behind  him,  and  by  its  light 
I saw  Isaac’s  thin  features,  all  twitching  with  pas- 
sion. But  he  controlled  himself,  and  said  only  that 
he  must  see  what  could  be  done  for  the  horse,  and 
could  I just  wait  on  the  porch  ? 

“ Well,  but  don’t  you  be  long  about  it ! I won’t 
have  ’em  here  ! ” 

“ C’esf  Croqiie — mitaine  mammanl"  (the  nursery- 
French  for  ogres  and  terrible  creatures).  The 
little  man  had  eyed  it  all  as  a show,  and  until  now 
had  not  spoken. 

I told  him  we  must  both  keep  very  still,  and  we 
moved  off  as  far  as  the  porch  permitted  ; to  be 
met  by  a trembling  haggard  woman  with  such  a 
very  young  baby,  who  was  listening  in  fear  and 
begged  me  with  tears  to  get  away. 

Another  roar : 

“See!  Here  — You!  You  can  set  in  the  par- 
lor — come  out  o’  that  fog.” 

Venturing  near  enough  to  thank  him,  I asked 
to  stay  outside.  The  young  locust  trees  were  in 
bloom,  and  filling  the  night  air  with  a dear  remem- 


CALIFORNIA. 


201 


bered  home  fragrance  — “ Let  me  stay  by  the 
locust  trees.  They  reminded  me  of  home  and 
my  father,”  I said,  nearly  crying ; I was  so  tired 
and  it  was  all  so  unexpected  and  miserable. 

“ Where’s  your  home  ? Who’s  your  father  ? 
What’s  his  name  ? ” 

I answered  : “ Saint  Louis  ” — “ and  Senator 
Benton.” 

“ What  ! Senator  Benton  ? Tom  Benton  ? ” 

And  being  satisfied  of  this,  with  a roar  louder 
than  any  yet,  he  cried  out  for  one  and  another 
until  several  men  were  about  him  ; all  was  changed 
now  — he  could  not  enough  shew  his  good  will. 
His  outcry  had  brought  Isaac  from  the  sick  horse, 
and  to  him  and  to  all  he  commanded  attention  to 
me  ; “ You,  Ike,  you  go  round  to  the  kitchen  — • 
there’s  a woman  thar,  a pore-good-for-nothing- 
sickly-thing  with  more  children  ’an  she  can  handle 
and  she’s  got  another  — I had  to  take  the  lot 
along  with  her  husband  and  now  he  can’t  cook, 
he’s  down  with  the  chills.  Have  that  woman  up, 
Ike,  and  make  her  wait  on  the  madam. 

“ Tom  Benton’s  daughter ! Lord  ! how  I did 


202 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME, 


fight  for  him  them  Bank  times  in  Mizoury,”  etc., 
etc.,  etc.,  — “ and  there’s  young  chickens  and  eggs 
— git  the  lady  a supper,” 

While  to  another  was  given  the  order  for 
“ wine,”  and  lo  ! bottles  of  various  kinds  (for 
me  ! a water-drinker  by  training  and  preference). 

He  meant  it  so  well  that,  with  the  aid  of  my 
handkerchief,  I managed  to  empty  a glass  of  an 
explosive  compound  he  named  “champagne” 
without  risking  any  of  it  within  my  mouth.  I do 
not  wonder  that  the  loud  cries,  the  queer  surround- 
ings, his  big  bloated  form  made  the  child  think 
him  an  “ ogre  ; ” but  he  was  now  intent  on  hospi- 
tality and  intermingled  his  broken  recollections  of 
my  father,  and  election  work,  with  sudden  vocifer- 
ations for  more  attentions  to  me.  He  had  himself 
brought  along  in  his  great  chair  to  the  end  of  the 
porch  where  the  locust  blossoms  looked  like  a 
snowfall  in  the  moonlight.  “Them  locusses,  1 
planted  ’em  to  remind  me  of  old  Mizourj',”  and 
before  long  he  was  talking  to  me  almost  gently ; 
he  thought  he  had  dropsy,  and  found  a sort  of 
comfort  when  I reminded  him  of  Gleneral  Jack- 


CALIFORNIA. 


203 


son’s  long  sufferings  and  death  from  the  same 
disease.  “ That’s  so  ! I know  that’s  true  ! Well, 
well,  what’s  good  enough  for  Andy  Jackson’s  good 
enough  for  me.” 

He  had  not  heard  of  my  father’s  death.  He 
could  not  realize  so  much  will  and  strength  and 
accumulated  power,  gone. 

“ What  am  I ? ” he  kept  saying.  “ I’m  nothin’ 
to  nobody.  Nobody  minds  me  now  I can’t  git 
round  — they  pretend  they  don’t  hear  me  call  and 
I git  mad.  Well  — I am  glad  to  have  Tom  Ben- 
ton’s daughter  in  my  house  before  I die.” 

He  was  in  pain  though,  and  had  to  be  carried 
off,  telling  me  to  stay  as  long  as  I had  a mind  to 
— “ jist  you  take  all  you  want.  Rest  that  horse,” 
etc.,  etc.,  etc. 

But  very,  very  early  that  horse  was  on  duty,  and 
we  crept  into  Stockton  where  a hot  bath  and  a 
good  sleep  left  no  trace  of  our  misadventures. 
Only  to  the  poor  “ ogre  ” as  to  myself,  a memory 
of  the  good  influences  of  the  locust  blossoms. 

On  the  boat  I found  the  Golden  Era,  the  literary 
paper  of  that  coast,  and  in  it  a bit  of  description 


204 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


I felt  to  be  so  faithful  to  the  sort  of  man  I had 
just  seen,  where  the  germ  of  good  survived  the 
wrong  uses  of  a life,  that  it  thoroughly  interested 
me.  I knew  the  editor,  and,  again  seeing  more 
such  writing  in  his  paper,  asked  who  his  contribu- 
tor was. 

“ My  compositor,  a young  man  of  not  tv'enty- 
three.” 

I had  to  insist  this  very  shy  young  man  should 
come  to  see  me  ; but  soon  he  settled  into  a regu- 
lar visit  on  Sunday,  his  only  time  of  leisure,  and 
for  more  than  a year  dined  with  us  that  day,  bring- 
ing his  manuscripts ; astonished  by  the  effect  of 
some,  at  times  huffed  by  less  flattering  opinion  on 
others,  but  growing  rapidly  into  larger  perceptions 
as  he  saw  much  of  various  people  to  whom  I 
made  him  known.  Chief  of  these  was  dear  Starr 
King.  It  was  an  education  in  every  good  to  know 
him. 

But  a man  cannot  live  on  praise  as  a humming- 
bird does  on  honey-dew.  I was  coming  away 
when  the  war  began,  and  our  youth,  “to  fortune 
and  to  fame  unknown,”  was  starting  to  Oregon  to 


CALIFORNIA. 


205 


become  joint  editor  of  a newspaper,  when  Mr. 
Beale  came  out  as  Surveyor  General.  He  gave  at 
my  asking  an  appointment  with  a good  salary  to 
the  unknown  genius,  and  he  gave  him  also  his  own 
valuable  friendship  ; when  he  was  leaving  Cali- 
fornia Captain  Rand  who  was  United  States  Mar- 
shal of  the  State,  repeated  the  kindness  ; and  on  his 
giving  up  office  a friend  of  Starr  King’s  who  was 
superintendent  of  the  mint  there  took  up  the  chain 
of  good  will  and  again  a good  salary  secured  lei- 
sure and  a quiet  mind  to  the  young  writer. 

He  wrote  me  about  this  time  : “ If  I were  to  be 
cast  away  on  a desert  island,  I should  expect  a 
savage  to  come  forward  with  a three-cornered  note 
from  you  to  tell  me  that,  at  your  request,  I had 
been  appointed  governor  of  the  island  at  a salary 
of  two  thousand  four  hundred  dollars.” 

By  this  time,  however,  he  was  well-known  in 
California.  I could  not  prevail  on  Mr.  James  T. 
Fields  to  introduce  him  on  this  side  through  the 
Atlmitic,  but  his  own  “ Heathen  Chinee  ” soon 
after  introduced  him  to  the  reading  world  where 
Bret  Harte  needs  no  outside  help. 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 

" {Foreign  Series.) 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


A queen’s  “ DRAWING  ROOM.” 

My  first  visit  to  the  old  world  was  in  thorough 
contrast  to  the  strange  and  rough  journeys 
into  the  newest  part  of  our  country  ; even  its  acci- 
dents turned  to  unexpected  pleasures  for  us. 

To  avoid  the  winter  crossing  from  New  York, 
we  had  taken  passage  direct  to  England  by  the 
West  India  mail  line.  This  made  some  days’  delay 
in  Panama,  but  we  congratulated  ourselves  on  not 
being  in  the  rush  of  our  late  fellow  travellers  who 
had  to  catch  their  steamer  at  Chagres  before  the 
following  night.  It  was  a most  fatiguing  journey 
before  the  railroad;  on  mules  half  the  way,  then 
in  open  canoes  down  the  Chagres  river.  The  hot 
sun  was  dangerous,  the  night  damp  equally  so ; 
and  the  alert  robbers,  who  had  every  advantage 

among  defiles  and  woods  they  knew  well,  made 
209 


210 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


another  danger  for  any  small  party.  We  were  to 
go  over  with  the  English  mails  and  treasure  from 
the  South  Pacific  — we  should  have  good  mules 
and  reliable  Indians  and  leisurely  travel.  Mean- 
time we  would  see  our  kind  Panama  friends. 
With  this  programme  we  settled  to  a “ shore  break- 
fast ” at  the  French  restaurant,  where  we  were 
amusing  ourselves  with  the  characteristic  self-con- 
fidence of  its  chef,  who  only  answered  to  all  our 
questions  and  preferences  : 

“ Soyez  tranquilles  ; Je,  suis  la,  vous  aurez  un  bon 
d^jeiiner." 

But  we  did  not  get  his  good  breakfast. 

Mr.  Frdmont’s  man  came  in  hurriedly:  “Col- 
onel, there’s  a bad  report  our  steamer  is  burned.” 

We  quickly  learned  this  was  true  ; the  Amazon 
had  been  burned  in  the  Bay  of  Biscay. 

Here  was  a rush  for  us  now ; we  were  off  im- 
mediately with  such  poor  mules  as  were  left,  carrying 
ourselves  and  our  baggage,  and  such  provisions  as 
the  lamenting  Frenchman  had  ready. 

My  baby,  a boy  not  a year  old,  was  carried  off 
on  an  Indian’s  back  in  a hammock  improvised 


A queen’s  “ DRAWING  ROOM.' 


2II 


from  a tablecloth,  with  a provision  of  chicken 
bones  and  crackers  and  a canteen  of  water.  That 
Indian  travelled  faster  than  our  lean  little  mules, 
and  to  my  fright  disappeared  after  we  entered  the 
hills ; but  when  we  got  off  our  miserable  mules  at 
Gorgona  there  was  my  baby,  happy,  and  quite  at 
home  with  a group  of  native  women.  The  good 
creatures  had  refreshed  him  with  a bath,  and  made 
me  comprehend  they  would  have  dressed  him  but 
he  would  not  let  them  put  on  his  clothes  again. 

With  the  earliest  light  we  were  in  the  canoe  hur- 
rying down  the  river  as  fast  as  possible,  but  it  was 
nightfall  before  we  reached  Chagres.  There  was 
no  need  to  ask  anything;  the  answer  was  there  in 
a man  with  a lantern  ( and  a grin  ) on  the  muddy 
bank  : 

“ Did  you  calculate  to  take  a New  York  steam- 
er?” A faint  “Yes”  from  us.  “Well,  the  last 
one  went  out  at  four  o’clock.” 

This  meant  waiting  ten  days ! ten  days  in  a 
place  so  unhealthy  that  if  any  person  slept  on  shore 
they  forfeited  their  life  insurance. 

We  took  a day  to  rest  and  decide  about  returning 


212 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


to  Panama.  That  second  night  one  of  the  English- 
men who  came  over  with  us,  died.  A healthy  man, 
who  went  to  sleep  well,  and  was  buried  at  sunrise. 

You  can  fancy  our  relief  when  we  saw,  that 
morning,  a trail  of  brown  smoke  on  the  horizon  — 
lovely  coal  smoke  — and  soon  a large  steamer 
came  to  anchor. 

Mr.  George  Law  was  visiting  the  ports  of  his 
steamer  line,  and  took  us  off  with  him  ; and  this 
ended  all  rough  chances  and  brought  us  back  to 
settled  order  and  comfort  in  all  things.  Although 
we  had  to  cross  the  Atlantic  from  New  York  in 
March,  after  our  care  to  avoid  it,  that  proved  good 
for  us.  Short  as  our  stay  on  the  Isthmus  had 
been  we  were  all  touched  with  its  fever,  and  the 
bracing  cold  was  its  best  remedy.  And  never  have 
I known  such  charming  comfort  at  sea  as  on  that 
rolling  old  Africa.  As  there  was  no  other  lady  on 
board.  Captain  Harrison  put  the  lady’s  parlor  en- 
tirely at  our  service.  It  was  the  library  also,  and 
had  an  open  fireplace,  and  the  wind  being  right 
for  a fire  we  had  that  luxury  all  the  way  over. 
Our  table  was  served  there  and  altogether,  with 


A queen’s  “ DRAWING  ROOM. 


213 


the  cheerful  fire,  the  books,  and  the  children,  it 
was  like  a fine  yacht. 

Everything  else  “ rolled  on  velvet.”  At  Liverpool 
we  were  met  by  a friend  who  took  charge  of  every- 
thing, and  we  had  only  to  let  ourselves  enjoy  the 
pleasure  and  repose  of  all  we  found  prepared  for  us. 

The  Marchioness  of  Wellesley,  who  was  one 
of  the  three  beautiful  Miss  Catons  of  Maryland 
— sisters  who  married  great  names  in  England  — 
had  been  kind  enough  to  take  trouble  that  my 
rooms  at  the  Clarendon  should  please  me.  She 
knew  of  our  coming  through  a mutual  friend,  and 
my  Virginia  family  was  known  to  her.  One  room 
of  the  suite  I found  so  bright  and  fresh  with  its 
new  chintz  and  flowers  and  wood  fire,  that  it  added 
to  my  pleasure  in  it  to  know  I owed  this  to  her 
suggestion.  She  said  the  heavy  dark  hangings 
would  seem  gloomy  after  the  brightness  of  America, 
and  herself  chose  the  chintz  for  slip  covers  for  the 
curtains  and  furniture  — asking  first  if  I were  dark 
or  fair,  that  a becoming  color  should  prevail. 

We  were  fortunate  in  having  home  friends  in 
the  American  minister  and  Mrs.  Abbott  Lawrence 


214 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


who  had  been  at  both  my  homes  in  Virginia  and 
Washington.  They  made  our  stay  delightful  from 
the  first  day.  A young  friend,  who  was  much  in 
Paris  with  her  sister,  took  charge  of  the  important 
matter  of  my  dress ; two  years  of  California  at  that 
date  put  one  out  of  civilization  as  to  dress.  A few 
visits  to  the  authorities  of  the  toilette,  just  to  be 
inspected  and  fitted,  and  I was  quickly  arrayed 
like  the  lilies  of  the  field  and  with  no  more  trouble 
on  my  part.  All  my  pretty  things  grew  without 
thought  from  me  while  I dined  and  breakfasted 
with  people  it  was  a pleasure  to  know,  and  drove  in 
the  Park  with  some  one  who  told  me  who  was 
who. 

Much  seemed  familiar  to  me  from  the  English 
atmosphere  of  my  earlier  days  as  well  as  from 
books.  My  experienced  friends  would  not  allow 
of  any  sight-seeing,  not  even  a look  into  West- 
minster Abbey.  They  were  wise  to  keep  me  from 
fatigue,  for  “ people  pass  away  while  monuments 
remain.”  ( It  was  reserved  for  the  Parisians  to 
contradict  this  when  they  destroyed  their  grandest 
historical  monuments.) 


A queen’s  “ DRAWING  ROOM.” 


2^5 


I did  meet  many  persons,  now  gone,  of  honored 
and  distinguished  names. 

My  first  evening  was  at  the  town  residence  of  the 
Dukes  of  Northumberland,  Sion  House,  now  taken 
down  and  the  space  built  over  in  modern  houses. 
Its  grounds  sloped  to  the  Thames  and  the  ex- 
tent and  magnificence  of  the  building  were  pos- 
sible only  to  hereditary  and  entailed  rank  and 
wealth. 

At  the  entrance  of  the  first  of  many  noble  rooms 
stood  the  duchess,  young  and  slender,  but  not 
beautiful,  as  she  should  have  been  for  such  beau- 
tiful surroundings.  I am  afraid  it  is  only  in  fairy 
tales  that  everything  comes  out  all  right.  Just  by 
the  duchess  was  a familiar  face,  that  of  Lady  Bul- 
wer,  whom  I had  known  well  when  Sir  Henry  was 
minister  to  the  United  States.  Mrs.  Lawrence  had 
already  introduced  me,  but  Lady  Bulwer  said  some 
nice  things  of  me  to  the  duchess  which  made  the 
difference  between  a merely  formal  introduction 
and  one  that  was  kind  and  personal.  Lady  Bulwer 
also  took  me  about  the  rooms,  making  occasional 
introductions  and  more  often  pointing  out,  and 


2i6 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


telling  me  about  persons,  in  the  way  only  women 
of  society  know  of  each  other. 

Moving  about  by  himself,  silent  and  abstracted, 
was  a very  elderly  man,  never  tall  and  now  bent  by- 
age.  “That  is  my  uncle,  the  Duke  of  Wellington,” 
she  said.  Going  to  him  and  taking  his  hand  she 
spoke  my  name  distinctly  — it  was  but  a few  months 
before  his  death  and  he  was  failing  — he  bowed 
mechanically,  and  then,  as  a slow  wave  of  memory 
brought  back  some  meaning  to  it,  “ I know  that 
name,”  he  said,  and  put  out  his  hand  to  me. 

Modern  training  does  not  permit  any  expression 
of  feeling,  but  before  I slept  that  night  I wrote 
this  to  my  father  ; of  all  I could  tell  him  he  would 
care  most  to  know  that  the  hand  that  had  proved 
the  hand  of  fate  to  Napoleon,  had  touched  mine. 

It  was  the  Duke’s  habit  to  dine  on  his  birthday 
with  Miss  Burdett-Coutts,  he  naming  the  persons 
to  be  invited.  He  did  us  the  honor  to  include  us 
this  year,  but  a death  in  my  immediate  family  pre- 
vented my  going,  and  shortly  after  his  own  death 
occurred. 

That  was  a bad  habit  I had  of  writing  home  when 


A queen’s  “ DRAWING  ROOM.” 


217 


I should  be  sleeping,  for  I needed  all  there  was  of 
me  for  each  day’s  engagements,  as  my  list  for  one 
day  will  show : 

“ To  be  presented  to  the  Queen.  Then,  from 
the  drawing-room  to  the  Duchess  of  Bedford  for 
four  o’clock  tea. 

“To  dine  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bates  (the  great 
banker),  and  after  that  the  evening  at  Sir  Roder- 
ick Murchison’s.” 

He  was  President  of  the  Royal  Geographical 
Society  and  had  invited  its  members  to  meet  Mr. 
Fremont  at  his  house. 

Mrs.  Lawrence  had  rehearsed  me  in  all  the  eti- 
quette of  the  ceremonial,  and  was  satisfied  with 
the  ease  and  depth  of  my  courtesy ; the  result  of 
much  early  drill  and  my  mother’s  fastidious  aver- 
sion to  seeing  a lady  “ bow  like  a man,  or  duck 
like  a servant.”  And  my  court  dress  was  also 
approved  of.  Here  every  properly  constituted 
girl  will  ask,  “ What  was  it  ? ” Because  I was 
thinned  and  almost  pale  from  constant  travel  — 
four  crossings  of  the  Isthmus  in  as  many  years 
— I had  to  abandon  my  favorite  color,  violet,  and 


2i8 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


avoid  blues  or  greens.  The  brides  and  debu- 
tantes had  the  right  to  white  ; yellow  was  impos- 
sible, for  California  was  then  only  connected  with 
its  first  idea  of  gold  mines  and  I could  not  go, 
like  Miss  Kilmansegg,  “ clad  in  a robe  of  aurifer- 
ous hue.” 

The  result  was  what  to-day  would  be  named  “a 
symphony  in  roses  ; ” we  did  not  have  the  name, 
but  the  gown  was  “ perfectly  sweet.”  The  petti- 
coat of  palest  pink  satin,  with  its  tremendously 
long  train  of  the  same  shade  of  moire  (then  a new 
thing).  Quantities  of  rich  blonde  lace  bordered 
the  train  and  softened  the  petticoat,  and  French 
skill  had  placed,  everywhere,  nestling  among  the 
lace,  roses  in  all  shades  from  red  to  white,  as 
lovely  and  nearly  as  natural  as  those  in  my  bou- 
quet. The  regulation  three  long  plumes  of  earlier 
days  had  come  now  to  shorter  ostrich  tips,  worn 
high  and  joining  the  lace  lapels  which  fell  over 
the  back  of  the  neck.  With  some  pearls,  the 
whole  was  harmoniously  rich  and  had  successfully 
avoided  being  “ shiny.” 

Writing  for  young  people  I may  remind  them 


A queen’s  “drawing  room.”  219 

the  Queen  only  uses  the  old  Palace  of  St.  James 
for  state  receptions,  her  town  residence  being  at 
Buckingham  Palace.  Mrs.  Lawrence  went  early 
that  I might  see  the  Queen  drive  up,  and  secured 
a good  place  for  me  in  one  of  the  deep  windows 
of  the  great  room  next  the  Throne-room  where  the 
ladies  of  the  diplomatic  corps  and  many  great 
ladies  were  assembled. 

A lovely  woman  of  middle  age  came  to  this 
window  and  was  turning  away  after  a look  in  the 
direction  the  Queen  should  appear  when  with  a 
sweet  smile,  and  the  very  sweetest  of  voices,  she 
said  to  me,  “ If  you  stand  here  ” (where  she  had 
been)  “ you  will  get  the  best  look  — Her  Majesty  is 
punctual  and  will  soon  be  here  now.” 

Then,  as  I thanked  her,  she  turned  again  and 
remained  by  me,  and  when  I had  a look  of  sur- 
prise at  the  Queen’s  horses,  she  asked  smiling, 
“ What  is  it  ? ” I told  her  that  I had  not  known 
horses  of  that  color  could  be  so  honored. 

“ Only  for  state-occasions,”  she  said.  “ It  was 
always  so.” 

“ Because,”  I asked,  “ of  the  Spanish  ideas  that 


220 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


governed  England  so  long?”  To  which  she 
agreed  that  it  well  might  be,  but  she  had  never 
heard  it  questioned. 

They  were  cream-colored  with  long  silvery 
manes  and  tails  — we  know  such  chiefly  as  circus 
horses.  You  who  are  fresh  in  your  histories  will 
remember  that  queen  of  Spain,  an  Isabella,  but 
not  our  Columbus-Isabella,  who  made  a vow  dur- 
ing a siege  not  to  change  her  linen  until  the  siege 
ended.  It  lasted  three  years.  All  her  court  had 
to  follow  her  example  and  the  deep  tan-yellow  to 
which  their  linen  had  changed  was  adopted  as  the 
royal  color  ; known  as  “Couleur  Isabelle.” 

I liked  this  as  an  evidence  of  the  unchanging 
usage  so  precious  to  the  English  mind  — “ it  has 
been,  therefore  it  is,  and  must  continue  to  be ; ” 
that  is  the  Chinese-wall  of  English  conservatives, 
and  the  barrier  to  larger,  more  modern  thought. 

This  sweet-voiced  woman  was  Lady  Clarendon. 
“ Of  course  you  found  her  charming,”  Mrs.  Law- 
rence said ; “ when  Lord  Clarendon  was  made 
Viceroy  to  Ireland  her  sweet  nature  and  manner 
were  counted  on  to  help  his  work  there.” 


A queen’s  “ DRAWING  ROOM.” 


221 


There  was  so  much  to  see  I could  not  take  in 
all,  but  I had  seen  the  agitation  of  the  diplomatic 
ladies  who  had  gathered  in  little  whispering  groups 
and  were  evidently  offended.  A young  and  most 
lovely  woman  was  as  evidently  the  offending  one. 
She  stood  apart  and,  though  she  could  not  avoid 
being  conscious  of  the  feeling  surrounding  her, 
bore  it  beautifully.  She  was  exquisitely  dressed 
in  pink  and  silver  brocade  with  row  after  row  of 
wonderful  pearls  covering  her  alabaster-white  neck 
— her  fairness  was  remarkable  — and  with  her 
golden  hair  and  blue  eyes  she  was  absolutely 
beautiful. 

Just  as  marked  was  their  courtesy  and  attention 
to  another  lady  who  was  also  somewhat  apart  — 
these  were  evidently  the  chief  figures  in  the  drama. 

This  lady  was  handsome  but  not  young;  her 
train  was  of  gold  brocade  embroidered  with  great 
bunches  of  flowers  in  their  natural  colors ; the 
head-dress  I recognized  as  Russian  — the  high 
velvet  coronet  covered  with  precious  stones  and 
the  long  veil  of  gold  lace.  She  was  the  wife  of  the 
Russian  Minister;  the  longest  resident  at  that 


222 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


court  and  therefore  having  right  to  the  first  place. 
Only  an  ambassadress  could  outrank  her.  And 
only  an  Empire  sends  ambassadors,  and  these  only 
on  unusual  occasions. 

But  the  husband  of  the  lovely  little  pink  and  sil- 
ver lady  who  was  wearing  the  famous  pearls  of  the 
Empress  Josephine,  had  just  been  raised  from 
minister  to  full  ambassador;  expressly  that  his 
country,  France,  might  take  the  first  place  at  this 
the  Queen’s  first  Drawing  Room  of  the  season. 

Count  Walewski  was  not  only  cousin  to  Louis 
Napoleon,  but  he  was  the  exact  portrait  of  the  old 
Emperor.  This  was  while  France  was  just  begin- 
ning to  lift  from  the  revolution  of  1848  which  had 
overthrown  monarchy  and,  as  yet,  Louis  Napoleon 
was  only  President.  This  forcing  on  all  the  repre- 
sentatives of  European  monarchies  to  recognize 
him  as  their  full  equal,  even  to  making  his  minister 
take  precedence  of  them  all,  was  a serious  matter. 
And  the  first  brunt  of  their  resentment  was  being 
met  by  the  Countess  Walewski.  Though  so  very 
fair  she  was  Italian,  of  the  noble  old  house  of 
Colonna,  and  she  did  not  flinch. 


A queen’s  “ DRAWING  ROOM.” 


223 


But  the  doors  of  the  Throne-room  opened,  and 
all  things  gave  way  to  the  ceremony  of  the  day. 

First  of  all,  passed  in  the  Ambassadress  of 
France. 

After  her ! Russia. 

America  came  fourth. 

After  Mrs.  Lawrence  had  made  her  courtesy,  she 
presented  me.  I knew  I must  not  look  openly  at 
the  Queen,  only  notice  her  bend  of  the  head  in 
return  for  my  low  courtesy ; then  I was  to  make 
another,  less  low,  as  I passed  before  Prince  Albert ; 
and  to  the  Queen’s  mother,  and  her  cousin  the 
Princess  Mary,  the  courtesy  was  again  to  be 
slightly  less  deep.  “ Remember  this,”  I had  been 
cautioned,  “ Her  Majesty  is  very  tenacious  of  all 
marks  of  deference  due  to  Prince  Albert.” 

I remembered  ; Mrs.  Lawrence  gave  me  a look 
of  approval  as  I took  my  place  by  her  in  the  line 
of  diplomatic  ladies  where  I was  to  remain  ; and 
now  there  was  nothing  to  interfere  with  my  enjoy- 
ment as  a looker-on.  For  two  hours  I watched 
that  beautiful  procession  of  English  noblewomen 
as  they  made  their  obeisance,  kissed  the  Queen’s 


224 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


hand,  and  then  backed  out  from  the  royal  presence. 
You  could  not  turn  the  back  to  the  Queen  nor 
could  you  speak.  It  was  all  a splendid  dumb-show, 
It  added  much  to  the  impression  to  have  no  sound  ; 
and  as  those  stately  figures  glided  along  one  after 
the  other  advancing,  courtesying,  and  backing,  in 
the  unbroken  silence  the  effect  became  dream-like. 

In  the  open  space  between  our  line  of  ladies  and 
the  picture-covered  wall,  softly  pacing  up  and  down 
was  the  Duke  of  Wellington  ; perhaps  he  should 
not  have  moved  but  he  was  not  only  privileged  but 
no  longer  fully  himself.  Immediately  back  of 
Madame  Walewski  was  a full-length  portrait  of 
George  IV.  If  “ those  lips  had  language  ” they 
would  have  asked  the  Duke,  “ How  came  these 
Bonapartes  here  ? You  defeated  and  overthrew 
him  at  Waterloo,  and  I imprisoned  him  on  St. 
Helena.”  But  the  mere  shadow  of  that  mighty 
name  proved  enough  to  govern  France  again  for 
almost  twenty  j^ears. 

At  dinner  that  evening  at  the  Bates,  I came  on 
another  page  of  French  histor}^ ; the  family  of 
Louis  Phillippe  had  taken  refuge  in  their  house 


A queen’s  “ DRAWING  ROOM.”'  225 

when  they  escaped  to  London  and  it  was  deeply 
interesting  to  hear  of  that  time  from  Mrs,  Bates. 

Mrs.  Lawrence  occasionally  directed  my  atten- 
tion to  some  special  person  — a look,  a touch  of 
her  bouquet,  or  a name  spoken  low  and,  as  school- 
girls know  how,  without  moving  the  lips. 

“ The  Duchess  of  Bedford,”  she  murmured. 

I had  seen  the  Queen  bend  forward  in  friendly 
greeting  to  the  little  old  lady  whose  look  and  even 
whose  dress  expressed  weariness  of  such  things,  and 
yet  a yielding  to  obligation.  You  could  read  her 
indifference  in  the  old  skimp  train  of  purple  velvet 
“ freshened  up  ” by  beautiful  old  lace  — but  the 
lace  was  just  basted  on  flat,  and  her  hair  was  not 
dressed,  but  screwed  up  on  top  of  her  head.  But 
around  the  scanty  twist  of  gray  hair  was  a ducal 
coronet  with  enormous  diamonds,  and  the  three 
heron  feathers  for  her  three  Dukedoms.  A com- 
fortable high-necked  and  long-sleeved  under-waist 
of  white  silk  protected  her  arms  and  neck — it  looked 
queer  projecting  from  the  short-sleeved  and  low- 
cut  body  of  the  purple  dress,  but  over  it  were  fas- 
tened several  splendid  necklaces — diamond,  stones 


226 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


of  color,  pearls,  without  grace  or  arrangement ; 
you  could  see  they  were  only  put  on  because  she 
had  them  and  it  was  the  thing  to  do,  but  she  had 
no  interest  in  them  or  her  appearance.  This 
greatly  pleased  me,  it  was  in  its  way  so  English; 
so  disdainful  of  appearances,  so  tenacious  of  fact. 

The  Queen  made  a beautiful  picture.  Standing 
above  the  level  gave  her  an  effect  of  height  which 
was  added  to  by  an  artistic  arrangement  of  the 
royal  robes.  The  velvet  and  gold  hangings  of  the 
throne  made  a rich  red  background  for  her  dress 
of  white  satin  and  lace.  Her  immensely  long  vel- 
vet train  of  royal-red  lined  with  white  satin  was  so 
disposed  as  to  fall  in  large  straight  folds  to  the 
step  below  her  where  its  rich  mass  was  added  to 
the  length  of  the  figure.  The  broad  blue  ribbon 
of  the  Garter  crossed  her  breast,  and  diamonds 
covered  her  neck  and  arms,  and  gave  out  their 
light  from  the  crown  on  her  small  and  graceful  head. 

The  Queen’s  countenance  and  manner  showed 
she  entered  fully  into  each  presentation.  She 
would  move  forward  toward  women  of  advanced 
age  — as  the  Duchess  of  Bedford — and  her  pleas- 


A queen’s  “ DRAWING  ROOM.” 


227 


ure  in  the  swan-like  white-robed  brides  was  evident ; 
while  her  eyes  followed  kindly  a blushing  embar- 
rassed girl  too  overawed  to  remember  all  her 
courtesys. 

Prince  Albert,  tall  and  much  handsomer  than  a 
man  need  be,  dressed  in  some  white  and  gold  uni- 
form made  the  completed  and  truly  royal  picture. 
I saw  them  both,  to  even  better  advantage,  some 
evenings  later.  Each  time  the  Queen  made  the 
same  impression  of  womanly  goodness  combined 
with  a look  of  power  — a simple  and  unconscious 
manner,  but  that  of  unquestioned  habitual  author- 
ity. This  was  softened  by  her  air  of  content  — 
there  is  no  beautifier  like  happiness  and  the  Queen 
was  seeing  her  best  days  ; her  marriage  was  excep- 
tionally happy  and  her  children  were  in  the  sweet 
baby-time  ; she  had  become  accustomed  to  the 
cares  of  governing,  and  England  was  at  peace. 
The  CrimeanWar  and  the  Indian  mutiny  were  near, 
but  no  shadow  was  on  this  time. 


CHAPTER  XV. 


QUEEN  MARIE-AMELIE. 

WE  had  a most  reposing  dinner  that  evening  at 
Mr.  Bates  for,  as  Mrs.  Bates  kindly  thought, 
I was  tired  from  the  long  ceremonial  of  the  Draw- 
ing Room.  Two  diplomats  of  distinction,who  were 
also  great  travellers,  had  wished  to  meet  Mr.  Fre- 
mont quietly  and  talk  travel,  so  we  were  but  six  at 
table. 

When  it  is  a large  dinner,  you  meet,  practically, 
but  the  one  person  assigned  to  you  — this  may 
prove  a pleasure,  but  sometimes  that  one  person 
may  be  stupid  enough. 

This  time  the  conversation  was  in  common,  and 
charming  from  the  wide  experience  and  high  posi- 
tion of  some  present,  and  the  harmony  of  tastes  in 
all.  The  table  had  a shaded  light  as  for  a home 
dinner,  and  in  the  space  of  a big  English  dining- 
228 


Queen  marie-amelie. 


229 


room  the  wax  lights  on  the  distant  buffets  did  not 
tell  on  this  quieting  effect.  I think  I was  at  every 
variety  of  dinner  in  London  : the  heavy  old-fash- 
ioned four  hours  of  time  and  thirty  guests  ; the 
completely  fashionable,  of  many  people  but  over  in 
the  hour  and  a half  to  which  modern  ideas  have 
mercifully  reduced  the  sitting;  dinners,  where  the 
ladies  “ withdrew  to  the  drawing  room  leaving  the 
gentlemen  over  their  wine,”  a solemn  proceeding 
familiar  to  me  in  Virginia ; and  the  later  usage  also 
familiar  to  me  in  Washington  of  all  leaving  the 
table  together  ; delightful  meetings  with  specially 
agreeable  men,  travellers,  officers  and  pleasant  peo- 
ple generally  at  “ bachelor  quarters  ” because  I 
could  not  go  to  a club  dinner ; but  none  pleased 
me  so  entirely  as  the  subdued  luxury  of  this  little 
dinner  of  six,  where  everything  was  subordinated 
to  the  idea  of  repose  and  friendly  intimacy.  No 
tall  candlesticks  and  vases  and  heavy  silver  things 
to  block  one’s  sight  of  the  opposite  person,  but  a 
large  bowl  of  exquisite  roses  covered  the  centre  of 
the  table  and  let  us  all  see  and  hear  in  comfort. 
But  each  appointment  was  an  art-study ; the  salt 


230 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


cellar  by  me  quite  charmed  me  — a silver  statuette 
by  Froment-Meurice,  eight  or  ten  inches  high,  of 
Venus  rising  from  the  sea.  The  foam  on  the  waves 
was  real  salt,  just  enough  to  excuse  its  being  called 
a salt  cellar,  but  the  beautiful  figure  of  chased  silver 
with  its  burnished  silver  masses  of  wetted  hair  was 
a thing  of  beauty.  Another  was  a Neptune  reining 
in  his  fiery  half-horses;  these  had  to  have  more 
salt  as  they  had  lashed  the  waves  to  more  foam 
than  could  the  gentle  Venus  — “Born  of  the  sea 
to  show  air  and  water  are  necessary  to  make 
beauty,”  some  one  sa3's. 

Inevitably  they  spoke  first  of  the  event  of  the 
morning.  This  assertion  of  imperial  power  by 
France,  still  in  name  a Republic  with  a President, 
was  discussed  calmly  but  with  full  comprehension 
by  men  who  had  taken  their  part  in  other  political 
upheavals  — and  in  their  downfalls. 

Mrs.  Bates  told  me  that  after  dinner  she  would 
show  me  her  souvenirs  of  the  stay  made  at  her 
house  by  the  Queen  of  France  (the  wife  of  Louis 
Phillippe),  when  she  escaped  to  England  from  the 
Revolution  of  1848. 


QUEEN  MARI  E-AM  ELIE. 


231 


In  a small  boudoir  at  the  end  of  the  suite  of 
large  drawing  rooms  was  a deep  arm-chair  in  the 
chimney  corner  with  a white  satin  ribbon  tied  from 
arm  to  arm,  and  fastened  to  its  high  back  the  in- 
scription that  there  sat  Queen  Marie-Amelie  dur- 
ing the  days  of  dreadful  suspense  while  she  waited 
to  know  the  fate  of  the  king,  of  her  sons,  of  her 
very  dear  orphan  grandsons  the  Count  de  Paris 
and  the  Due  de  Chartres  who  you  know  came  over 
and  served  in  our  war.  Only  some  of  her  daugh- 
ters and  daughters-in-law  escaped  with  her  — they 
too,  anxious  and  most  unhappy. 

Imagine  this  poor  mother’s  anguish.  She  was  a 
good  and  a proud  woman,  and  brought  to  the 
French  throne  a family  life  of  affection,  of  per- 
sonal example  and  insistance  on  an  honorable  at- 
mosphere, never  known  in  France  before  her  time. 
She  was  of  the  house  of  Savoy  which  is  simple, 
direct,  brave,  and  true  to  its  duty.  Her  grandson, 
the  King  of  Belgium,  shows  the  good  of  this  blood 
in  his  sensible  uses  of  power  to  develop  commerce  ; 
and  another  near  relative,  the  fine  young  King 
Humbert,  showed  himself  as  brave  as  his  father 


232 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


Victor  Emanuel,  in  his  conduct  during  the  cholera 
in  Italy.  When  the  mob  was  howling  about  the 
Tuileries  and  sacking  the  palace,  it  was  hard  to 
get  the  queen  away.  “ We  will  be  murdered  — we 
must  fly,”  said  Louis  Phillippe. 

“Where  else  should  a king  die  than  in  defend- 
ing his  throne  ? ” she  said. 

Then  they  were  rushed  off,  not  to  know  for  days 
what  had  become  of  each  other. 

The  Bates  family  were  out  of  town  and  there  were 
only  some  servants  in  the  house.  The  little  Duch- 
ess of  Montpensier,  hardly  fifteen,  sister  to  Queen 
Isabella  of  Spain  and,  like  her  brought  up  pur- 
posely in  childish  ignorance,  could  not  feel  the 
vastness  of  their  misfortune.  The  royal  ladies  had 
of  course  only  the  clothes  in  which  they  escaped 
and,  needing  pocket  handkerchiefs,  gave  one  of  the 
servants  money  to  get  them  some  and  the  woman 
told  Mrs.  Bates,  the  little  Duchess  slipped  some 
money  into  her  hand  asking  her  to  bring  her  also 
some  chocolate  bonbons  — which  naturally  made 
the  woman  pity  still  more  the  unconscious  young 
thing  who  had  no  idea  of  all  she  had  lost. 


QUEEN  MARIE-AMELIE. 


233 


There  was  an  album  of  the  Queen’s  letters,  which 
was  not  shown,  and  photographs  and  portraits  ; 
and  when  we  came  out  of  that  pretty  room  I felt 
we  had  left  a tomb. 

After  the  shocking  sudden  death  of  the  Duke  of 
Orleans  his  mother  had  adopted  as  her  own  charge 
those  whom  her  son  had  pensioned.  Now,  with 
diminished  resources  she  carried  out  that  son’s 
wishes.  An  officer  had  been  killed  in  Algiers  in 
defending  the  Duke.  The  Queen  gathered  up  this 
family  again  in  England  where  the  daughter  (who 
herself  told  me  this  but  a few  years  since)  grew 
to  be  reader  and  singer  to  the  Queen,  and  by 
her  was  suitably  endowed  when  she  married.  The 
husband,  an  Italian  sculptor,  had  vague  dreams  of 
great  fortune  in  California.  They  came  there, 
soon  lost  their  capital  in  bad  investments,  “and 
at  twenty  I was  alone  in  a mining  camp  with  my 
baby  while  my  husband  was  searching  for  employ- 
ment in  San  Francisco.” 

One  evening  in  almost  despair  she  was  singing  her 
child  to  sleep  with  one  of  the  grand  Latin  Hymns 
of  the  Catholic  Church  when  one  and  another  man 


234 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


drew  near,  listening.  To  show  she  was  not  alarmed 
she  sang  to  the  end.  Then  one  advancing  told  her 
they  knew  her  husband  was  out  of  luck,  but  there 
was  something  for  the  baby  until  he  came  — a gen- 
erous “ something.”  With  her  delicate  honor  she 
could  not  take  this  without  return  and  said  so  ; 
the  way  opened  when  they  told  her  if  she  would 
sing  for  them  sometimes  “it  would  be  square.” 
After  that  all  went  well  for  her.  Her  miner  friends 
arranged  for  her  to  give  neighborhood  concerts  that 
gathered  in  money.  And  since  then  as  a teacher 
of  music  and  singing  she  has  long  had  independ- 
ence. And  the  husband  had  also  congenial  and 
profitable  art-work,  so  that  California  was  good  to 
them  and  they  have  kept  it  their  home.  She  has 
kept  also  the  high  mark  of  the  lofty  and  gentle 
training  which  fitted  her  by  both  example  and  edu- 
cation to  meet  reverses  with  dignity  and  courage. 

At  the  house  of  Sir  Roderick  Murchison  we 
came  into  another  world.  Here  were  men  who 
had  been  to  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth,  to 
whom  privations  and  dangers  in  the  pursuit  of  sci- 


QUEEN  MARIE-AMELIE. 


235 


ence  and  knowledge  were  so  familiar,  so  matter-of- 
course  that  they  thought  no  more  of  them  than  the 
good  soldier  does  of  his  battle  scars.  And  there 
were  also  men  of  letters  and  distinction  in  art  — 
a clear-eyed  manly  set  of  men  who  bore  the  fine 
impress  of  an  animating  purpose. 

Coming  together  as  they  did  to  meet  Mr.  Fre- 
mont, there  was  naturally  a more  demonstrative 
outspoken  manner  than  is  usual  ; but  when  an 
Englishman  of  sense  and  good  manners  does  not 
feel  the  need  for  reserve  he  is  as  open  as  a boy. 
We  had  a delightful  evening  leading  to  many  pleas- 
ant things,  and  some  acquaintances  which  have 
never  dropped. 

The  expedition  Lady  Franklin  was  sending  to 
search  for  her  husband  was  about  ready  to  start 
and  we  were  asked  by  some  of  its  officers  to  go  the 
next  day  to  Woolwich  and  visit  their  ships. 

How  doomed  they  seemed  ! Everything  was  so 
prepared  for  danger  and  loss.  In  the  small  cabin 
of  the  captain  where  a few  books  and  some  few  pict- 
ures were  to  make  his  companions  in  the  years 
of  lonely  absence  from  home  and  the  busy  life  of 


236 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


the  world,  we  had  the  great  pleasure  to  find  he 
had  included  the  reports  of  Mr.  Fre'mont’s  explora- 
tions, and  his  engraved  portrait.  Under  which  on 
my  card  I wrote : 

“ Footprints  ” . . . “ that  another, 

A forlorn  and  shipwrecked  brother, 

Seeing,  may  take  heart  again.” 

From  the  small  strong  little  Arctic  ship  we  were 
taken  over  one  of  the  largest  men-of-war  just  ready 
to  be  launched.  She  looked  immense,  high  on  the 
dock  ; but  the  most  interesting  part  of  her,  to  me, 
was  the  diamond-shaped  bit  of  wood  inserted  in  her 
upper  deck  with  its  brass  rim  bearing  an  inscrip- 
tion to  tell  it  was  a piece  of  one  of  Nelson’s  old 
ships  on  which  he  had  commanded,  and  for  which 
the  new  one  was  named. 

Years  after  when  I was  in  Copenhagen  we  were 
taken  out  to  the  sea-forts  on  the  islands  that  de- 
fend the  city  and  where  part  of  their  defence  is 
made  by  the  ships  sunk  by  Nelson  in  the  “Battle 
of  the  Baltic  ” to  block  the  channel ; and  a Danish 
friend  gave  me  a rare  old  engraving  of  that  naval 


QUEEN  MARIE-AMELIE. 


237 


engagement  because  of  my  pronounced  admira- 
tion for  Nelson.  Through  my  Virginia  side  I was 
up  in  my  Southey  and  Campbell  and  all  they  said 
of  Nelson  found  echo  in  me  which  took  life  when 
I saw  his  old  ships  and  the  scenes  of  his  battles  — 
not  from  seeing  his  Trafalgar  monument  though 
Landseer  did  model  the  lions.  Monuments  rarely 
are  satisfactory,  especially  where  they  go  into  alle- 
gory. When  Landseer  was  left  to  himself  no  one 
could  better  express  the  feelings  of  deer  and  dogs. 
His  dogs  became  at  once  household  treasures. 
He  was  among  the  men  of  brains  I was  glad  to 
meet  at  Sir  Roderick  Murchison’s  and  I was 
fortunate  in  pleasing  him  enough  to  have  quite 
a dog-talk  with  him,  from  a criticism  he  found 
good. 

After  so  many  people  and  places  and  exciting 
thoughts  it  was  a good  change  to  have  a passive 
evening,  dining  at  home  and  going  early  to  the 
theatre. 

But  the  theatre,  too,  roused  a lot  of  thinking,  for 
the  acting  was  by  the  company  of  the  Theatre 
Francais  and  the  Queen,  who  was  to  be  there,  had 


238 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


bespoken  the  play,  PaiUiasse — the  best  character 
of  the  old  and  famous  Frederic  Lemaitre. 

I had  taken  my  little  girl  that  she  might  see  the 
Queen,  and  as  our  box  was  facing  that  of  Her 
Majesty  we  combined  many  satisfactions.  There 
can  be  no  acting  equal  to  that  of  this  profession- 
ally perfected  company  where  no  detail  is  consid- 
ered trifling  but  each  part  filled  with  truthful  exact- 
ness, and  an  ease  belonging  with  thorough  train- 
ing, and  the  feeling  that  it  is  their  life-profession ; 
for  after  a certain  time  a pension  is  given,  and  the 
surplus  receipts  are  divided  among  the  members 
of  this  company  Every  form  of  brain-work  is  bet- 
ter rewarded  in  France  than  in  any  other  country. 

Early  as  we  went  the  play  had  begun,  and  the 
Queen  was  absorbed  in  watching  its  action.  At 
the  moment  it  was  only  action,  for  the  principal 
figure  was  silent,  though  his  countenance  and  move- 
ments told  the  stor}- : a hard  worked  tired  man 
past  middle  age  was  tending  a sick  boy  who  lay 
on  a straw  pallet  on  the  floor  of  a poor  cottage ; 
while  he  was  also  making  ready  the  evening  meal 
of  the  family  — that  soupe  dii  soir  of  the  French  poor 


QUEEN  MARIE- AMELIE. 


239 


— cutting  into  the  big  bowl  slices  of  bread  from  the 
long  tough-looking  loaf  on  which  the  soup  will  be 
poured  when  the  rest  come  in. 

His  troubled  grieved  face  — his  gentle  lifting  of 
the  boy  who  moans  as  the  change  brings  only  fresh- 
pain — this  was  the  simple  scene  that  was  holding 
in  watchful  sympathy  the  Queen  of  England. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


THE  QUEEN  AND  THE  PEASANT, 

O understand  the  deep  undercurrent  of  this 


play,  you  must  recall  the  fury  of  the  long- 
oppressed,  ignorant  French  laboring  people  which 
in  their  Revolution  found  vent,  like  the  rage  of 
animals,  in  indiscriminate  killing.  While  opposed 
to  them  were  the  nobles,  who  were  equally  un- 
reasoning in  regard  to  the  causes  that  led  to  all 
this,  and  without  pity  or  comprehension  for  the 
griefs  of  the  class  opposed  to  them.  This  feeling 
still  controls  in  French  politics.  In  the  time 
nearer  the  Revolution  it  was  intense.  “ Aristo- 
crat,” to  the  French  peasant,  was  the  embodiment 
of  all  evil ; “ le  peuple,”  the  same  to  the  aristocrat. 

If  you  have  read  Dickens’  Tale  of  Two  Cities, 
you  will  remember  how  well  he  shows  this.  It  is 
better  told  in  the  good  French  writings  on  that 


240 


THE  QUEEN  AND  THE  PEASANT. 


241 


time  — the  Memoirs  of  the  Duchess  de  la  Roche- 
jacquelin  for  one.  Written  when  she  was  eighty 
and  had  passed  through  splendor  and  young  hap- 
piness to  grief,  want  and  ill-usage  by  peasant 
farmers  who  would  have  killed  her  had  they 
guessed  she  was  anything  but  a weakly  farm-hand 
herding  their  turkeys  — on  through  wars,  exile  and 
poverty  back  to  peace  and  such  happiness  as  comes 
from  relief  from  trials,  this  is  a book  to  read  that 
you  may  understand  by  it  feelings  that  shape  a 
nation. 

It  was  a most  aristocratic  audience  that  looked 
on  at  this  poor  peasant  making  ready  the  food  he 
has  earned  for  his  family.  “ Pailliasse  ” is  the 
popular  name  given  the  travelling  juggler  and 
acrobat  because  of  the  straw  mattress  he  uses  in 
his  performance.  This  man,  tall,  strong  and  of 
open  fine  face,  begins  to  show  the  wear  of  time 
and  his  hard  life.  It  is  fun  for  the  country  towns 
where  he  exhibits,  but  all  hard  work  to  him.  But 
he  has  a sacred  purpose  that  keeps  him  from 
yielding  to  the  wish  for  a little  rest.  His  wife  is 
very  young,  very  delicate,  a little  broken  in  cour- 


242 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


age  and  strength  by  early  harsh  treatment,  and  it 
is  the  joy  of  his  heart  to  keep  her  in  comfort,  to 
give  her  what  for  their  lot  in  life  would  be  luxur)^ 
He,  already  advanced  in  years,  had  married  her 
to  protect  her  from  the  rough  farmer  to  whom  she 
was  a drudge  — a parish  waif  without  protection 
from  family  or  friends,  and  already  her  delicate 
young  frame  was  sinking  under  harsh  treatment. 

She  is  always  in  his  thoughts ; he  begins  to  talk 
of  her  as  he  cuts  up  the  carrots  and  herbs  for  the 
soup  and  wonders  where  she  and  the  little  boy 
are  at  that  hour  — “ walking  in  the  fields.  She 
hates  the  streets  and  the  noisy  people,  but  loves 
to  gather  flowers  and  walk  alone.”  Then  she 
comes  in  with  a little  fellow  who  runs  to  the  other 
boy  on  his  pallet.  “ Do  not  wake  him,”  says  the 
mother,  he  sleeps,  he  is  tired,  my  poor  little 
one.”  The  father  has  to  tell  her  that  the  boy 
slipped  and  fell  while  standing  on  his  shoulders 
during  the  afternoon  performance.  She  is  a slen- 
der, refined-looking  and  lovely  young  woman,  list- 
less in  manner,  but  as  she  hears  that  the  boy  had 
fallen  and  was  hurt  she  springs  up  in  horror,  ciy- 


THE  QUEEN  AND  THE  PEASANT. 


243 


ing  that  she  knew  it  must  come  — that  her  chil- 
dren would  be  killed — “that  horrible  danger! 
How  often  I have  protested  against  it.”  Then 
like  a woman  possessed  she  cries  out : “ I must 

save  them  — I have  no  choice  — I cannot  see  my 
children  killed  ! ” 

Poor  Pailliasse  — he  knows  he  must  let  the 
hysterical  passion  spend  itself,  but  it  was  pitiful 
to  see  him  feeding  and  tending  the  little  boys 
with  his  sorrowful  face  turning  in  vain  to  the 
mother,  who  seems  beyond  control.  On  this  the 
curtain  falls. 

Then  the  Queen  became  the  first  object.  Prince 
Albert  and  two  ladies-in-waiting  were  the  only 
persons  in  the  large  box.  We  were  directly  oppo- 
site, we  also  only  four  in  our  box,  and  the  Queen 
naturally  looked  again,  seeing  a little  girl  with 
respectful,  intent  look  fixed  on  herself. 

The  Queen’s  countenance  was  very  interesting. 
The  emotion  of  the  scene  had  brought  to  the  sur- 
face more  expression  than  English  breeding  toler- 
ates for  common  use,  and  she  was  talking  easily 
with  the  others.  Prince  Albert  looked  a little 


244 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


bored,  but  the  Queen  was  animated,  and  though 
not  handsome,  as  he  was,  yet  more  distinguished- 
looking,  and  with  that  quiet  air  of  majesty  of 
which  he  had  none.  Her  dress  was  very  simple, 
a pale  blue  moire  dinner  dress  with  a lace  scarf 
over  the  bare  shoulders  and  a pearl  necklace 
around  the  throat. 

It  was  a great  pleasure  to  the  child  to  be  so 
near  and  observe  to  such  advantage  ‘‘  a real 
Queen  ” and  find  her  so  much  like  other  ladies 
even  in  dress ; and  she  knew  the  power  and 
grandeur  of  the  Empire  on  which  the  sun  never 
sets.  It  was  a good  lesson  to  see  this  powerful 
sovereign  as  interested  as  she  herself  was  in  the 
family  cares  of  a poor  peasant. 

The  curtain  goes  up  and  again  all  is  silence.  In 
foreign  theatres  it  is  considered  rude  and  ill-bred 
to  make  disturbing  sounds,  and  when  the  Queen 
was  present  it  was  also  deference  to  her  to  be 
silent. 

This  time  the  husband  and  wife  are  in  deep 
conference.  He  told  her  the  child’s  fall  was  his 
fault;  that  while  he  was  balancing  him  on  his 


THE  QUEEN  AND  THE  PEASANT. 


245 


shoulders  a fine  carriage  with  four  horses  had 
crossed  the  village  common,  and  that  the  sight  of 
those  aristocrats  rolling  at  their  ease  while  she, 
weak  and  suffering,  had  to  walk,  drove  the  blood 
to  his  head,  and  he  threw  out  his  clenched  fist  at 
them  and  so  lost  the  balance  for  the  boy  — “ they 
bring  only  misfortune  to  us,  those  aristocrats,”  he 
said.  Then  she  tells  him  those  fine  people  had 
come  to  look  for  her  and  bring  riches  to  them ; 
that  she  had  not  been  walking  in  the  field,  but  had 
gone  with  one  of  them,  their  lawyer,  to  the  inn, 
where  a very  old,  white-haired  gentleman  who  was 
sick  wanted  to  see  her.  How  he  cried  out  at  sight 
of  her  — how  he  compared  her  face  with  a little 
picture  — “it  was  myself  but  with  such  beautiful 
dress  and  hair.”  And  how  they  asked  her  to 
take  off  her  cap  and  the  old  gentleman  wept  as 
her  long  light  hair  fell  in  waves  about  her  and 
called  her  his  child  and  a name  that  was  not  hers. 
And  he  said  she  must  live  with  him  always,  for  he 
was  her  mother’s  father  — her  mother  who  had 
been  killed.  And  then  Monsieur  le Notaire  stopped 
him,  telling  him  he  would  be  ill  if  he  talked  more 


246 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


and  now  must  rest;  and  in  the  morning  he,  the 
lawyer,  would  go  and  tell  her  the  rest,  “ then 
bring  her  to  stay  with  me  and  be  a great  lady  and 
rich.”  And  then  the  lawyer  brought  her  home. 

She  dared  not  tell  all.  How  the  lawyer  had 
said  that  she,  the  child  of  a noble  family  whose 
mother  and  father  had  been  killed  and  their  home 
burned  by  their  own  peasants,  could  not  bring  a 
peasant  into  her  grandfather’s  home.  That  it 
would  kill  him.  They  had  seen  the  poor  fellow 
exerting  himself  in  his  parti-colored  clothes  and 
paint  and  found  him  impossible.  They  did  not 
feel  that  but  for  his  tender  care  the  little  lost 
aristocrat  would  have  perished  from  want  and 
hard  treatment  — they  did  not  consider  peasants 
had  any  “feelings,”  or  rights  that  nobles  were 
bound  to  respect ; and  so  the  lawyer  told  her  of 
the  good  provision  that  would  be  made  for  her 
husband,  while  she  and  her  children  w’ould  be  put 
in  their  natural  place  and  lifted  out  of  all  harms. 

Although  she  refused  flatly  to  hear  to  leaving 
her  husband,  the  thought  had  been  planted  like  a 
drop  of  poison,  and  when  she  found  her  boy  hurt 


THE  QUEEN  AND  THE  PEASANT. 


247 


by  the  only  way  open  to  gain  their  bread,  her  poor 
brain  grew  all  heated  and  troubled  as  to  what  was 
right  for  them. 

What  for  their  father  now  growing  old  ? Was 
she  selfish  to  think  of  her  feelings  ? But  this  she 
keeps  to  herself,  for  she  hopes  to  beg  her  grand- 
father just  to  give  them  a little  farm  and  some 
money  so  they  may  rest.  The  lawyer  is  so  kind — 
surely  he  will  take  her  part ; and  she  waits  to  see 
him,  only  telling  a part  of  the  truth  to  Paillaisse. 

He  feels  with  sure  instinct  that  he  will  not  be 
tolerated.  But  when  the  lawyer  comes  he  goes 
off  that  she  may  be  free  to  decide. 

The  lawyer  is  patient  and  cunning.  “ Of  course 
it  is  painful  — at  first  — to  be  away  from  the  good 
man  who  has  sheltered  her,  out  he  is  already  old 
and  failing  and  she  should  think  of  him  and  the 
repose  riches  would  bring  him.”  “ She  is  so  often 
suffering  ? ” “ Ah,  yes.”  “ Already  her  husband 

exerts  himself  beyond  his  strength  to  provide  for 
her  helplessness  ? ” “ Ah  indeed  yes  ! ” “ And 

he  has  to  train  the  little  boys  to  the  same  risky 
business  to  take  his  place  ? ” With  tears,  “ Yes.” 


248 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


“ Did  not  her  husband  marry  her  to  protect  her 
when  she  was  a forlorn  little  nobody,  and  now 
that  she  knew  she  was  a noble  and  could  do  every- 
thing in  return  and  make  his  old  age  all  comfort 
would  she  be  less  generous  than  Pailliasse  had 
been?  Her  grandfather  is  ill  — he  is  in  sus- 
pense — will  she  disappoint  him  and  condemn  her 
family  to  poverty  growing  greater  as  time  goes 
on  ? ” And  so  he  leaves  her. 

Poor  tempest-tossed  soul ! But  she  must  decide 
at  once.  Pailliasse  comes  in,  and  in  a storm  of 
tears  and  grief  she  pours  out  her  torment  of  inde- 
cisions. 

With  the  exaggeration  of  unselfishness  which 
belongs  with  great  love,  he  tells  her  she  must 
leave  him.  But  the  children  he  will  not  give  up 
— they  are  his  and  shall  grow  up  to  earn  their 
bread  as  he  and  his  people  have  done.  She  begs 
for  her  children,  and  the  mother’s  feeling  almost 
melts  him  when  — unfortunately  — she  goes  on 
to  say  it  was  not  alone  the  danger,  but  already 
the  eldest  shrinks  from  it  as  she  does.  “ Often  I 
have  felt  disgust  as  they  crowded  about  you  with 


THE  QUEEN  AND  THE  PEASANT. 


249 


their  coarse  loud  laughs — there  was  something  in 
me  that  rose  against  this  humiliating  future  for 
him  — I know  now  what  it  was  — it  was  the  blood 
of  my  race  that  which  revolted  at  this.”  {C'etait 
le  sang  de  mon  race  qni  se  revoltait  contre  cette  avenir 
de  Pailliasse.) 

Here  fell  a dead  silence.  The  woman  is  awed 
into  wonder  as  she  gazes  on  her  husband  who 
seems  transformed  by  the  rush  of  new  perceptions 
coming  over  him  like  an  advancing  wave,  with 
more  and  more  cold  dashes  as  he  recognizes  how 
his  wife  had  been  thinking  of  him  — he  who  had 
been  so  proud  of  the  strength  and  skill  that  en- 
abled him  to  make  her  life  easy.  And  that  skill 
had  only  “revolted”  her.  He  does  not  speak, 
but  his  eloquent  countenance  — the  long  look  he 
gives  his  strong  arms  as  he  stretches  them  out, 
then  lets  them  drop  with  a bitter  smile  — you 
feel  “ his  occupation’s  gone.” 

At  last  his  great  manly  affection  for  her  domi- 
nates all  personal  feelings  and  he  seems  transfig- 
ured by  the  sacrifice  of  self  as  he  turns  with  in- 
finite gentleness  to  the  frightened  woman. 


250 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


“ You  must  go  with  your  people.  And  take 
your  children.  Perhaps  some  day  their  noble 
blood  may  also  be  in  revolt  against  the  poor 
Pailliasse.” 

With  a cry  of  shame  and  pain  she  springs  to 
his  arms  and  refuses — refuses  to  go  herself  — 
refuses  to  leave  the  man  who  was  so  good  to  her 
when  no  one  else  was  — “ My  life  is  in  yours  ! I 
will  never  leave  you — Only  keep  me  with  you  ! ” 

Down  goes  the  curtain.  My  small  girl  was 
weeping  against  my  arm.  I was  comforting  her 
and  drying  her  eyes  (and  my  own)  when  I saw 
the  Queen  honestly  pressing  her  handkerchief  to 
her  wet  eyes,  with  her  face  softened  to  loveliness 
by  sweet  womanly  emotion.  Not  far  ahead  lay 
the  great  parting  from  her  husband  which  has  so 
changed  all  her  life.  We  Americans  have  to 
thank  Prince  Albert  for  his  care  for  our  country 
even  when  he  knew  his  hours  were  numbered. 
The  Queen’s  bias  lay  rather  for  the  South  in  the 
opening  of  our  war.  Prince  Albert,  while  not 
having  perhaps  the  same  personal  sympathy  as  the 
Queen,  had  a larger  comprehension  of  the  kinship 


THE  QUEEN  AND  THE  PEASANT. 


251 


of  races  and  held  it  as  a bond  to  be  cherished 
and  strengthened.  The  Saxon  and  Protestant 
peoples  he  felt  should  maintain  each  other.  And 
he  asked  of  the  Queen,  with  the  binding  wish  of 
the  dying,  that  she  would  take  no  part  against 
the  Northern  States  of  America.  And  in  doing 
as  he  wished  she  went  against  some  of  her  strong- 
est advisors,  and  the  greater  part  of  the  English 
aristocracy. 

Do  you  want  to  know  the  end  of  the  play  ? I 
do  not  know  it  myself.  My  young  one  was  so  un- 
nerved that  we  went  home,  and  though  I intended 
reading  the  play  there  was  no  catching  up  any 
dropped  stitches  in  that  swift-moving  time. 

I hope  it  went  well.  I hope  the  grandfather 
gave  them  the  means  to  keep  happy  in  their  own 
way.  The  child  lost  sight  of  in  the  terrible  disor- 
ders of  the  Revolution  had  only  known  the  hard 
side  of  life  and  it  would  have  been  misery  for  her 
to  be  made  over  into  an  idle  fine  lady,  and  the 
peasant  blood  in  the  boys  7night  have  proved 
worthy  of  their  father  and  revolted  at  much  in  the 
new  conditions. 


252 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


But  seeing  the  effect  of  that  domestic  picture 
on  the  Queen  gave  me  such  an  insight  into  her 
own  home-loving  nature  that  by  its  light  I have 
read  her  journal  and  realized  how  sincere  it  was. 

It  is  said  that  of  the  Queen’s  ministers  Palmer- 
ston and  Disraeli  were  the  two  who  had  most  in- 
fluence, and  this  because  they  never  forgot  that 
she  was  a woman  as  well  as  a queen. 

Soon  afterwards,  in  Paris,  while  this  dramatic 
presentation  of  class-hatred  was  fresh  in  mind, 
accident  brought  us  in  contact  with  the  ugly  real 
thing  — one  of  the  kind  of  adventures  one  is  will- 
ing to  have  had  — after  they  are  well  over  — but 
most  repugnant,  and  full  of  bad  chances  while  you 
are  going  through  with  them. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


A MILITARY  FETE  DAY  IN  PARIS. 

Ma  belle  Ville  de  Paris” 

HIS  fond  term  of  Henry  iv.  for  Paris  was 


perfectly  appropriate  to  the  beautiful  city 
as  we  first  knew  it  in  1852.  Although  during  the 
allied  occupation  of  1814  Wellington  had  had  its 
boulevards  shorn  of  their  noble  avenues  of  old 
trees,  and  their  great  wooded  Park  the  Bois 
de  Boulogne,  was  also  despoiled,  forty  years  of 
Nature’s  healing  work  and  much  care  and  money 
made  a beautiful  new  park.  The  English  were 
as  cruel  as  they  intended  to  be  in  destroying  trees 
which  Time  alone  could  create,  but  that  inde- 
structible love  of  beauty  and  grace  which  belongs 
in  French  nature  had  restored  and  embellished 
the  many  lovely  gardens  within  Paris. 


?53 


254  ' SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 

It  is  not  the  same  now.  It  must  always  remain 
superb  and  beautiful,  but  other  cruelties  have  al- 
tered and  vulgarized  its  special  features.  The 
frenzy  for  building  and  speculating  in  city  prop- 
erty which  was  the  result  of  “improving”  Paris 
during  the  last  Empire,  abolished  the  many  charm- 
ing gardens  surrounding  the  buildings  on  the 
grand  promenade  of  the  Champs  Elysde.  These 
lit  up  that  noble  avenue  as  fresh  flowers  give  their 
finishing  touch  of  life  and  grace  to  one’s  toilette. 
The  open  work  gilded-iron  railings,  or  low  stone 
walls  of  these  ancient  pleasure-grounds  showed 
green  lawns  and  flower-beds  and  tall  groups  of 
pink  acacias,  golden  laburnums  and  ever}'where, 
hedges  of  lilacs.  Not  the  scraggly  old  growth  of 
leaf  and  stem  with  scant  flowering  which  every 
farmhouse  knows  here,  but  high  rounded  masses 
of  bloom  like  huge  hand-bouquets.  Long  skilful 
cultivation  had  trained  these  to  a complete  face  of 
blooms  — lilac,  white,  purple,  and  the  feathery 
pink-lilac.  “ Le  moi  des  Idas  ” was  a fi.xed  expres- 
sion in  French  poetry  and  stories.  But  this  was 
the  Paris  beloved  by  and  written  of  by  Beranger 


A MILITARY  FETE  DAY  IN  PARIS. 


255 


and  Balzac,  and  Madame  de  Girardin  and  Victor 
Hugo.  Not  that  of  to-day  where  hard  stone  re- 
places trees  and  grass  and  flowers. 

When  a railroad  was  to  be  built  from  St.  Peters- 
burg to  Moscow  the  engineers  were  aghast  to  hear 
the  Emperor  call  for  the  map ; and,  disregarding 
all  the  intervening  towns  with  their  necessities  of 
trade  and  travel,  he  drew  a straight  line  from  the 
new  capital  to  the  old  one.  And  so  it  was  built. 

In  the  same  way,  and  on  the  now  obsolete 
ground  of  putting  war  foremost,  the  map  of  Paris 
was  taken  by  the  second  Empire  and  straight  lines 
ruled  remorselessly  through  streets  and  buildings. 
The  one  governing  intention  was  to  have  them 
radiating  in  clear  open  lines  from  centres  through- 
out Paris  and  connect  with  its  underground  ap- 
proaches. Then,  if  the  formidable  '''' petiple  de 
Paris"  rose  in  one  of  their  outbursts  of  .fury,  then 
— so  they  planned  — cannon  could  sweep  all  these 
approaches  and  the  Empire  hold  its  power. 

The  best  laid  plans 
Of  men  and  mice 
Aft  gang  agcc. 


256  SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 

The  fatal  attack  was  made  from  Sedan,  and  the 
furious  mob  burned  the  most  royal  dwelling,  the 
most  historically  interesting  palace  I have  ever 
seen.  I cannot  feel  Paris  to  be  itself  without  the 
Tuileries. 

But  this  May-day  of  ’52  the  spring  sun  could  not 
shine  on  a fairer,  sweeter  sight  than  the  gardens 
of  the  stately  Tuileries,  the  leaping  fountains  and 
groups  of  statuary  in  the  Place  Concorde,  thence 
through  the  wooded  grounds  that  bordered  the 
Champs  Elysees  up  the  gentle  ascent  of  the  broad 
avenue  to  the  Arch  of  Triumph  that  terminates  a 
promenade  and  drive  without  its  equal. 

Not  alone  for  its  grand  plan  of  which  every  de- 
tail shows  cultivated  taste  and  incessant  care  as 
well  as  outlay  of  money,  but  for  its  historic  inter- 
est ; and  now  the  intensely  interesting  historical 
pageants  again  in  action  on  that  storied  ground. 

We  came  over  from  London  to  witness  one  of 
these.  There  was  to  be  a grand  militarj’-  revnew 
on  the  Champ  de  Mars ; which  has  for  one  bound- 
ary of  its  immense  parade  ground,  the  Hotel  des 
Invalides,  where  as  you  know  old  soldiers  find 


A MILITARY  FETE  DAY  IN  PARIS. 


257 


their  honored  home  and  where  also  is  the  tomb  of 
the  great  Napoleon.  On  this  field  an  altar  had 
been  raised,  and  the  highest  clergy  of  France  were 
to  be  present  and  give  their  blessing  to  the  stand- 
ards which  the  tens  of  thousands  of  troops  would 
receive  at  the  altar  as  a religious  duty;  then,  file 
past  in  review  before  the  Prince-President  and  his 
staff,  the  diplomatic  corps,  and  the  invited  guests, 
who  filled  the  richly  decorated  platform  (“  tribune  ” 
is  their  word)  on  either  side  of  him.  We  had  the 
advantage  to  be  among  the  invited  and  so  saw 
everything  in  perfection. 

But  you  can  read  elsewhere  of  great  reviews. 
The  idea  in  this  was  the  main  thing.  As  in  send- 
ing an  Ambassador  to  England,  so  now,  in  restor- 
ing to  the  French  standards  the  Imperial  Eagles 
— the  emblem  of  France’s  proud  years  of  Victory 
under  Bonaparte  — all  Europe  saw  that  the  inten- 
tion of  this  Napoleon  was  not  to  keep  France  as  a 
Republic,  but  to  restore  the  Empire.  Therefore 
all  the  rulers  of  Europe  watched  this  day  as  keenly 
and  more  interestedly  than  the  vast  throngs  of 
Parisians,  for  to  them  it  meant  ultimate  war  for  all 


258 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


Europe.  Looking  back,  the  events  string  them- 
selves one  after  another  clearly,  but  History  is  not 
made  as  quickly  as  it  is  read. 

We  knew  both  English  and  French  persons  who 
had  every  opportunity  for  good  political  knowledge 
and  their  opinions  and  beliefs  were  of  deep  inter- 
est. Especially  those  of  an  elderly  French  gentle- 
man of  whom  I shall  tell  you  more  later ; for  he 
was  the  embodiment  of  what  was  best  in  an  extinct 
species  — the  '■‘■grand  seigneur'"  of  old  France.  First 
through  the  introduction  of  an  English  friend,  and 
after  from  his  own  liking  for  both  Mr.  Frdmont 
and  myself,  this  charming  true  gentleman  became 
part  of  our  life  in  Paris,  and  the  friendly  intimacy 
was  kept  up  by  letters,  and  renewed  whenever  we 
returned  to  h'rance  while  he  lived.  His  eighty-four 
years  had  covered  the  most  interesting  centuiy  of 
modern  times.  Through  his  friendly  care  we  were 
put  on  the  “ liste  intime  " and  invitations  were  sent 
us  for  evei^'thing  belonging  with  the  fetes  and 
balls  under  the  new  government  for  all  our  stay  in 
Paris. 

We  had  to  make  an  early  start  to  get  our  place  in 


A MILITARY  FETE  DAY  IN  PARIS. 


259 


the  file  which  already  about  nine  o’clock  stretched 
from  the  Place  Concorde  to  the  Champs  de  Mars. 

If  I am  too  detailed  remember  I am  not  telling 
this  for  those  of  you  who  have  been  there,  but  for 
others  who,  like  myself  at  that  time,  found  all 
new. 

From  every  cross-street  were  pouring  soldiers, 
very  small  men,  but  in  great  numbers.  The  short 
small  soldiers  astonished  me.  But  long  wars  which 
used  up  the  men  had  forced  the  women  to  work  in 
the  fields  — often  yoked  to  the  plough  with  a horse, 
an  ox,  and,  as  I have  seen  even  a cow  — had  les- 
sened the  vitality  of  the  race,  and  the  French  army 
standard  had  to  be  constantly  lowered  until  now 
their  infantry  was  under  five  feet.  A soldier  of  five 
feet  eight  inches  is  looked  after  and  admired  and 
the  people  exclaim  “ Qtcel  bel  hom77ie  f ” “ Superbe  ! ” 
and  they  did  not  move  silently  and  compactly  like 
a piece  of  mechanism  as  you  see  them  with  us,  but 
more  like  schoolboys  parading  on  a holiday  — 
laughing,  talking,  with  loose  ranks,  but  a look  of 
“ fight  ” about  them  all  the  same.  As  we  drove 
down  the  broad  avenue  of  the  Champs  Elysde,  on 


26o 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


which  we  lived,  to  the  square  where  the  line  of 
carriages  was  forming,  the  ground  seemed  all  sol- 
diers and  the  air  all  music ; bands  and  drums  and 
bugles  kept  such  a ceaseless  sound  that  the  air 
was  full  of  vibrations.  The  people  were  out  in 
swarms ; men  in  blouses,  women  in  caps,  gay  and 
good-natured,  calling  out  to  one  another  and  to 
the  soldiers ! who  in  the  most  unmilitarj'^  manner 
answered  back  with  chaffing  and  laughter,  turning 
to  “ keep  it  up  ” as  they  backed  while  keeping 
step  to  the  music. 

We  had  to  move  along  very  slowly  and  found 
this  part  already  “ a show.”  We  also  found  that 
les  blouses^  the  laughing  women,  the  little  plucky- 
looking  soldiers,  all,  continuing  on  from  the  start 
through  the  length  of  the  procession,  all,  instantly 
and  heartily  cursed  us  as  we  passed.  “ Sacre  An- 
glais !"  was  their  mildest  salute,  and  when  we  be- 
came stationary  in  the  file  on  the  square  the  angry 
Sact'i  Anglais  !”  became  almost  a clamor. 

It  was  because  of  our  unmistakably  English 
equipage.  We  had  brought  over  from  London  our 
whole  “outfit”  (as  our  mining  slang  would  put  it) 


A MILITARY  FETE  DAY  IN  PARIS. 


261 


and  the  perfect  coupe  with  its  thoroughbred  grays 
and  the  two  Englishmen  on  the  box,  clean-shaven, 
fair,  and  impassive,  acted  on  the  temper  of  this 
English-hating  people  as  the  red  flag  does  on  the 
bull. 

They  are  a very  queer  people.  Carlyle  says  there 
are  two  natures  — “Human  nature  and  French 
nature.”  We  were  to  feel  more  of  the  unreason- 
ing caprices  of  this  French  nature,  but  here  the 
crowd  was  held  back  and  channels  kept  open  by 
living  hedges  of  soldiers;  some  of  these  nearest 
us  crowded  close,  looking  into  the  windows,  and 
growling  rude  words,  when  their  wrath  was  changed 
to  silence  and  looks  of  astonishment  and  apology. 
Simply  because  the  coupe  basket  was  filled  with 
fresh  violets  and  I wore  them  on  my  dress.  It  is, 
as  you  know,  the  Bonaparte  flower.  It  is  also  the 
flower  I love  best  and  always  have  about  me  when 
I can  get  them.  That,  the  soldiers  could  not 
know;  but  the  sweet  little  things  pacified  them 
and  protected  me  again  later  in  the  day. 

That  halt  on  the  “ Square  of  Peace  ” (whose 
stones  were  so  often  red  with  blood)  was  a thing 


262 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


to  remember.  To  the  left  was  the  Tuileries  with 
its  personal  memories  of  old  French  royalty;  its 
long  dark  bulk  rising  high  against  the  blue  sky. 
On  the  right,  terminating  the  splendid  vista  from 
the  Tuileries  up  the  great  avenue,  rose  the  Arch 
of  Triumph — the  monument  to  Napoleon  times 
— its  marbles  still  new,  and  dazzling  white  in  the 
sparkling  sunshine.  Back  of  us  the  Church  of  the 
Madeleine  telling  of  the  unchanging  power  of  re- 
ligion ; while  in  front,  across  the  Seine  whose 
every  bridge  is  a record  of  histoty,  loomed  above 
the  Legislative  Halls  and  the  dark  mass  of  older 
Paris,  the  newly-gilded  dome  of  the  Invalides,  our 
point  for  the  day.  These,  all,  were  rich  in  that 
vivid  personality  with  which  French  history  is  so 
invested.  In  all  directions  was  the  dense  pict- 
uresquely-dressed crowd,  bordered  by  troops  ; and 
the  air  was  full  of  shrill  gay  sounds  that  seemed  to 
underlie  the  hea\ty  cloud  of  military  music  rolling 
above  us. 

The  color  of  our  ticket  carried  us  rapidly  past 
the  file  to  the  entrance  reserved  for  those  invited, 
where  in  the  large  court-yard  of  the  Invalides  our 


A MILITARY  FETE  DAY  IN  PARIS.  263 

carriage  was  to  wait  and  we  were  to  return  to  it 
there  in  that  quiet  place  after  the  ceremonies. 

From  the  tribune  we  saw  everything  — the 
splendid  altar,  with  the  many  groups  of  stand- 
ards with  their  glittering  new  eagles  again  in  po- 
sition ; the  silent  pageant  of  blessing  these,  and 
seeing  the  kneeling  soldiers  lowering  the  banners, 
then  rising,  march  off  proudly  to  their  waiting  regi- 
ments ; no  loose  ranks,  no  chaff  or  sound  now  — 
when  the  French  soldier  is  at  real  military  work 
“ he  means  business.” 

Paris  is  so  familiar  with  fine  open-air  spectacles 
that  the  people  have  their  drill  in  the  matter  as 
well  as  the  soldiers,  and  they  go  about  their  part 
as  old  play-goers  to  the  theatre,  appreciating  all 
the  points  and  scenic  effects,  criticizing  and  api- 
plauding,  and  giving  an  atmosphere  of  complete- 
ness impossible  to  the  self-contained  self-conscious 
English  and  American  crowds,  but  ail  the  more 
interesting  to  outsiders  as  it  makes  the  show  more 
theatrical  and  spectacular. 

We  met  on  the  tribune  an  English  officer,  Cap- 
tain Cathcart,  who  had  travelled  with  Mr.  Frdmont 


264 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


on  a winter  journey  across  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
in  ’48,  and  Mr.  Fremont  and  himself  made  their 
own  estimate  of  the  troops  reviewed ; putting  it 
at  forty-seven  thousand.  The  Paris  journals  said 
sixty  thousand,  but  we  found  forty-seven  thousand 
men  under  arms  a very  magnificent  exhibition. 
Especially  interesting  was  that  small  body  which 
represented  the  past  wars  and  glories  of  the  Grande 
Armde.  The  others  moved  rapidly,  passing  at 
double-quick,  and  the  Zouaves  on  the  run  ; but 
these  mutilated  pages  of  history  walked  slowly, 
halted,  and  received  a special  notice  from  Louis 
Napoleon  ; and  they  seemed  to  have  real  feeling 
in  their  cry  of  “Vive  l’  Empereur.” 

Indeed  the  absence  of  enthusiasm  among  both 
the  troops  and  the  people  was  very  marked ; in 
these  seemed  to  be  an  undercurrent  of  opposition 
or  dull  indifference.  There  was  no  hearty  cheer- 
ing. Sometimes  applause  for  a special  reason,  as 
when  the  “Zou-Zous”  made  their  spirited  run- 
ning, or  the  Veterans  of  the  Grand  Army  came 
slowly  and  stiffly  along,  but  for  the  rest  you  could 
see  it  was  only  one  more  day  of  show  and  excite- 


A MILITARY  FETE  DAY  IN  PARIS.  265 

ment;  and  for  the  night  the  theatres  were  to  be 
open  free ; the  government  knowing  that  was  a 
crowning  joy  of  the  people. 

When  we  came  out,  returning  to  the  court-yard 
where  the  carriage  was  to  wait,  it  was  not  there. 
There  were  other  private  carriages  which  quickly 
drove  off,  but  we  could  not  get  any  satisfactory 
account  as  to  why  or  when  ours  had  left,  or  how 
it  was  to  be  found.  Nor  were  there  any  public 
conveyances.  We  found  ourselves  completely 
“ left ; ” and  the  guards  said  politely  but  posi- 
tively, the  gates  must  be  closed. 

The  dispersing  crowds,  like  waters  from  a broken 
dyke,  were  pouring  by  in  masses  and  it  was  like 
venturing  into  the  surf  to  go  among  them.  But 
it  had  to  be  done.  With  proper  walking  things 
and  clear  streets  it  would  have  been  only  a 
good  long  walk  from  the  Invalides  to  the  upper 
end  of  the  Champs  Elysed,  but  my  elaborate  long 
dress  of  silk  and  lace  hampered  me  and  the  high 
heels  of  my  silk  boots  caught  between  the  cobble 


stones. 


266 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


Most  fortunately  we  were  taken  for  French  ; and 
soon  saw  the  protection  this  made,  for  two  very 
elegant  and  handsome  English  girls  and,  evidently 
from  the  likeness,  their  brother,  had  been  caught 
in  an  eddy  of  the  crowd  just  near  us  and  were  get- 
ting the  most  offensive  — even  cruel  treatment  — 
from  women  all  about  them.  Apparently  they  did 
not  speak  French,  and  the  brother  was  only  mak- 
ing matters  worse  by  giving  way  to  his  indignation 
in  vigorous  English.  We  saw  his  hat  knocked  off 
and  his  coat-skirts  torn  away  and  flourished  from 
hand  to  hand  over  the  heads  of  the  crowd  like 
captured  flags  with  derisive  shouts  of  A has  les 
Anglais;”  and  a woman  pulled  the  long  yellow 
curls  of  one  of  the  girls  making  the  tears  spring  to 
her  eyes  from  the  pain  and  insult,  while  the  “ Sacr/ 
Anglais  ” flew  thick  around  them,  just  as  they  had 
sworn  at  our  English  equipage  in  the  morning.  It 
was  but  a light  example  of  the  dreadful  scenes  so 
often  known  to  those  streets  during  their  revolu- 
tion. 

I was  very  differently  treated,  in  fact  taken  un- 
der their  protection.  A woman  took  oft  my  little 


A MILITARY  FETE  DAY  IN  PARIS. 


267 


mantilla  with  its  deep  lace  frill,  made  it  into  a 
compact  parcel,  and  good-humoredly  ordered  Mr. 
Fremont  to  button  it  under  his  coat  and  take  good 
care  of  it  for  it  would  be  torn  in  the  crowding  if 
he  kept  it  in  his  hand  — '‘‘‘fatit  soigner  les  dentelles  de 
votre petite  dame,"  she  said,  with  that  thrift  and  also 
the  love  for  pretty  things  innate  to  French  women. 

The  movement  of  the  swaying  eager  crowd  did 
roll  and  hustle  everyone  like  stones  upon  a beach 
and  all  Mr.  Fremont  could  do  was  to  put  both 
arms  around  me  to  keep  me  from  being  jostled 
roughly,  in  which  the  women  aided  him  — encour- 
aging me  and  telling  me  not  to  be  scared  — as 
they  saw  I was  — and  admiring  and  protecting  my 
dress  which  they  gathered  up  and  packed  on  my 
arm.  They  all  noticed  the  violets  in  my  belt  and 
hat  which  were  as  useful  to  me  as  a countersign. 

We  adapted  ourselves  to  the  situation  and  were 
careful  to  say  nothing  in  English — explained  that 
we  had  missed  our  carriage  — thanked  them  for 
every  help  — and  so  got  along ; halting  when  the 
crowd  halted,  to  let  regiments  pass,  then  borne 
along  with  its  rush  as  it  dashed  across  to  another 


268 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


Street  where  there  would  be  another  halt  for  more 
and  more  regiments  — the  cavalry  and  artillery 
shouting  la  has  P'  women  screaming  and 

laughing,  men  swearing  and  laughing,  but  not  an 
intoxicated  person  among  them,  and  so  between 
halts  and  rushes,  and  in  real  danger  from  excited 
horses,  we  finally  found  ourselves  near  the  bridge 
of  Jena,  where  the  sentries  refused  to  let  us  pass. 
Nor  could  they  be  bribed.  I wish  to  say  here  that 
in  all  that  jam  nothing  was  taken  from  our  pock- 
ets. 

By  this  time  the  stones  had  cut  my  thin  boots 
to  rags.  We  had  had  to  leave  home  verj'  early. 
Now  the  day  was  ended  and  street-lamps  lit.  I 
had  gone  all  day  on  my  morning  cup  of  tea  and 
roll,  and  was  about  exhausted  from  hunger,  ex- 
citement and  fatigue.  Fright  too. 

Down  on  the  dark  river  we  saw  a boatman  in 
a dingy  black  punt,  and  hailing  him  we  consid- 
ered fortune  favored  us  when  he  answered  our 
signal  of  distress  and  took  us  on  his  boat. 

I was  only  too  glad  to  climb  down  the  slipper}' 
stone  steps  cut  in  the  embankment  and  find  rest 


A MILITARY  FETE  DAY  IN  PARIS,  269 

on  the  damp  seat  of  the  little  boat.  And  soon  we 
were  laughing  at  the  boatman.  He 

Was  nae  fou’ 

But  jist  a drappie  in  his  ’ee. 

and  very  good-humored  to  us.  Evidently  believ- 
ing that  we  had  missed  the  carriage  on  purpose  to 
excuse  our  getting  off  together  and  when  he  was 
told  to  take  us  as  near  as  possible  to  some  street 
leading  to  our  locality  he  just  smiled  on  us  and 
said  we  need  not  hurry,  he  would  promenade  us 
as  long  as  we  liked.  But  he  was  open  to  a money 
argument  and  rowed  fast,  landing  us  at  a quiet 
street  where  we  caught  a rickety  one-horse  cab 
and  got  back  home,  as  Cinderella  did  from  her 
ball,  in  complete  contrast  to  the  manner  of  our 
leaving.  We  found  the  household  anxious  and 
alarmed,  for  the  carriage  had  come  back  early. 
Our  men  had  been  ordered  to  drive  out  of  the  en- 
closure ; their  ticket  was  not  respected  after  we 
left ; they  spoke  only  English  and  they  saw  their 
being  English  made  the  mischief.  They  could 
not  wait  in  the  encumbered  streets,  so  they  had 


270 


SOUVENIRS  OK  MY  TIME. 


the  good  English  sense  to  come  home.  We  had 
been  uneasy  for  them,  feeling  the  temper  of  the 
crowd,  but  no  harm  came  from  the  day.  A few 
days  restored  my  cut  and  bruised  feet,  and  I had 
gained  a most  unlooked-for  insight  into  the  true 
unguarded  feelings  of  a French  street-crowd  of 
the  formidable  peiiple  de  Paris.  Something  of  it 
■we  had  realized  while  in  the  carriage,  but  far  more 
by  their  treatment  of  those  nice  English  girls.  We 
longed  to  help  them,  but  were  too  far  off;  nor 
could  we  have  changed  the  deep-rooted  race- 
hatred which  seems  ingrained  in  the  popular 
French  mind.  They  did  not  mean  to  hurt  those 
young  English  people,  only  to  “give  them  a piece 
of  their  (French)  mind.”  It  was  the  tiger  at  play, 
but  their  flashing  eyes  and  excited  voices  gave  me 
a shuddering  insight  into  what  they  could  do  when 
their  tiger  blood  was  fully  up  — how  they  acted  and 
looked  when  the  horrible  mob  of  the  Commune 
burned  the  Tuileries. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


A NOBLEMAN  OF  THE  OLD  REGIME. 

OFTEN,  in  the  earlier  morning,  I would  hear 
a soft  bustle  in  the  anteroom  and  the  sound 
of  a woman’s  voice  giving  directions ; then  I knew 
I had  a visit  from  our  delightful  old  friend  the 
Count  de  la  Garde,  and  that  his  servant-nurse, 
Jeanne,  was  reminding  him  not  to  stay  too  long. 

On  the  way  back  from  his  regular  morning  airing 
in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  he  would  stop  for  a visit 
to  me,  then  leave  punctually  in  time  for  his  mid-day 
breakfast. 

Medes  and  Persians  are  fickle  compared  to 
French  laws  for  the  care  of  health,  and  regular 
and  good  food  they  justly  consider  as  of  vital  im- 
portance. 

If  the  Count  forgot  the  hour  he  would  be  re- 
minded by  Jeanne,  a motherly  middle-aged  upper- 
27* 


272 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


class  servant  who  attended  him  always.  She  would 
bring  in  his  douillette^  a long,  wadded  wrapper  of 
gray  silk  — a garment  resembling  the  long  quilted 
Japanese  gown — and  wrap  him  in  it  carefully  be- 
fore he  quitted  the  warm  room.  “ We  begin  and 
end  with  women-nurses,”  he  would  say ; “ men  are 
not  patient  or  sensitive  enough  for  infancy  and 
age.” 

The  good  Count  was  already  well  past  his  three- 
score and  ten,  but  he  had  no  intention  of  dying 
yet.  He  used  to  say,  “It  is  not  the  right  mo- 
ment just  at  present.  I want  to  see  the  outcome 
of  this  political  upheaval  which  has  brought  the 
Bonapartes  again  into  power.  Je  me  cramponne  d 
la  vie.  * ” 

He  had  seen  so  much  ! He  loved  to  tell  me  the 
personal  inside  part  of  all  that  terrible  drama  of 
which  France  was  the  theatre  in  his  boyhood ; of 
his  wandering  life  of  exile  and  poverty  in  Sweden 
and  England  which  followed  ; of  fortunes  restored 
through  Bonaparte  — of  the  overthrow  of  “ CE 
GRAND  HOMME  ” ; the  brief  restoration  to  the 
* In  our  expressive  slang  that  would  be  *'  1 do  not  mean  to  lou 


A NOBLEMAN  OF  THE  OLD  REGIME.  273 


throne  of  the  Bourbons,  and  their  family  cabals 
ending  with  the  reign  of  Louis  Phillippe.  And 
now,  again  a Bonaparte.  “ Decidedly  I must  live 
on,”  he  would  say  ; “ ce^i  m’  mterresse." 

And  he  did  live  for  ten  years  longer.  Whenever 
I was  abroad  we  resumed  our  pleasant  acquaint- 
ance, and  he  wrote  me  the  most  delightful  letters 
when  I was  back  at  home. 

Dying,  he  bequeathed  me  a precious  collection, 
which  he  had  selected  for  me  from  among  his 
treasures,  to  illustrate  topics  we  had  talked  upon. 
My  part  was  to  listen,  though  my  father’s  tastes  and 
training  fitted  me  to  be  the  kind  of  listener  that 
encouraged  the  memory  and  talk  of  one  who  had 
lived  through  those  great  days.  There  are  in  this 
collection  original  letters,  and  autograph  and  in- 
timate personal  letters,  from  almost  all  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Bonaparte  family.  An  ivory  miniature 
by  Isabey  for  which  Bonaparte  sat  in  1804,  other 
heads  — one  full  of  a stern  cruel  power,  which  I 
lent  to  the  sculptor,  Launt  Thompson,  as  the  true 
war-head  on  which  he  made  a statue  to  order  from 
France.  Josephine  from  youth  to  age;  poor  vain 


*74 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


weak  tender-hearted  Josephine;  I like  her  thinned 
temples  and  cheeks  and  sunken  eyes  better  than 
her  looks  as  Empress  ; they  shew  both  tenderness 
and  character.  And  many,  water-colors  as  well  as 
engravings,  of  Queen  Hortense.  Through  a mar- 
riage between  his  father’s  family  and  a “Fanny  de 
Beauharnais,”  Hortense  and  her  brother  Eugene 
were  his  near  cousins.  The  authenticated  page 
from  the  “ Golden  Book  of  the  nobles  ” accompa- 
nied these  portraits  giving  the  family  connection 
in  full.  And  there  is  a most  interesting  steel  en- 
graving of  J osephine’s  first  husband,  the  Marquis  de 
Beauharnais ; a head  of  the  old  type  of  nobles,  not 
so  much  disdainful  as  absolutely  unconscious  of  the 
world  at  large.  Very  handsome  too.  Thin,“  lofty  ” 
features  and  an  expression  of  extreme  reserve  and 
yet  gentleness. 

This  same  reserve  and  yet  a most  winning  gentle- 
ness, was  the  characteristic  of  the  Count  de  la  Garde 
himself.  A gentleness  so  innate  that  in  telling 
of  the  most  cruel  scenes  of  the  revolution  — which 
as  a boy  of  ten  he  fully  appreciated  ^ no  harsh  ex- 
pression escaped  him,  which  we  might  think  only 


A NOBLEMAN  OF  THE  OLD  REGIME.  275 


befitting.  “ My  mother,  and  all  the  women  I knew 
at  that  time,  remain  with  me  as  a vision  of  tears, 
of  prayer,  of  tender  consolation  to  one  another, 
of  constant  secret  endeavors  to  earn  money  with 
which  to  save  some  failing  life,  for  all  were  made 
one  common  family  by  the  common  calamity. 

His  father  had  been  one  of  the  ministers  in  the 
last  Cabinet  of  Louis  xvi.  His  mother  had  among 
her  family  that  gallant  Count  de  Fersen,  ambassa- 
dor from  Sweden,  who  risked  his  life  to  save  those 
of  the  King  and  Queen.  You  remember  how  the 
pig-headed  Bourbon  lost  this  last  chance  by  insist- 
ing on  a hot  supper  — the  time  wasted  to  roast 
a chicken  allowed  them  to  be  overtaken  near  the 
frontier  and  all  was  lost  through  the  selfishness,  the 
unrestrained  greediness  of  an  otherwise  fairly  kind 
and  good  man ; an  uncommonly  good  man  as  Kings 
went  in  his  time. 

Another  relative  was  the  brilliant  and  famous 
Prince  de  Ligne,  whose  portrait  is  enough  to  ex- 
plain the  rage  against  “ aristocrats.”  The  mould- 
ing effect  of  habits  of  thought  and  action  is  fright- 
ful. We  do,  each  one  of  us,  stamp  ourselves  on  our 


276 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


faces,  our  gestures,  and  our  manner  of  moving  as 
well  as  speaking. 

There  is  a collection  of  Watts’  Portraits  at  the 
Art  Museum  here  which  is  wonderfully  in  proof  of 
this.  But  you  can  all  see  it  for  yourselves  in  the 
daily  free  exhibition  of  common  life.  The  thing 
that  tries  me  is  the  number  of  anxious  or  shrewd 
faces  among  little  babies.  The  thoughts  of  their 
fathers  and  mothers  have  told  on  them  — poor  little 
creatures. 

But  the  sw'eet  mothers  w'ho  prayed  and  w'orked, 
while  tears  were  wrung  from  them  by  distress  they 
could  not  remove,  transmitted  their  saving  influ- 
ence too.  Certainly  no  man  could  be  more  hum- 
bly aware  of  our  human  w'eakness  and  helplessness 
than  the  Count  de  la  Garde  ; the  lesson  of  his  life 
remained  with  him  as  its  awful  proof.  But  w'ith 
this  he  had  an  elastic  sweetness  and  light-hearted- 
ness, a simple  philosophy  of  cheerful  acceptance 
and  intelligent  shaping  for  the  best  of  what  did 
come  to  him,  w’hich  has  been  a distinguishing  fea- 
ture of  the  good  French.  Of  the  common  people 
as  well  as  those  trained  to  comprehension. 


A NOBLEMAN  OF  THE  OLD  REGIME,  277 


Paris  was  very  homelike  to  me  from  the  start. 
It  was  only  a splendid  amplification  of  the  old 
French  life  of  Saint  Louis  to  which  I had  grown 
up.  I was  happy  to  have  again  French  servants 
about  me,  and  though  it  is  diverging  a great  ^deal 
let  me  tell  here  that  not  one  change  was  made 
among  my  first  household  there  during  a fourteen 
months  stay.  Two  of  them  came  back  with  me  to 
America,  one  living  with  me  fifteen  years,  and  an- 
other twenty.  I would  write  that  I was  coming 
over  and  when  I reached  Paris  I would  find  the 
old  servants  ready  for  me  if  I was  to  make  some 
stay  and  keep  house.  If  to  travel  only,  there  was 
one  man  who  was  always  ready,  even  coming  here 
once  when  suddenly  needed. 

Going  back  after  a four  years’  absence,  I wrote 
from  New  York  to  ask  the  dear  old  Count  to  dine 
with  us  the  Fourth  of  July.  We  landed  at  Havre  the 
first  of  July.  When  he  found  the  same  men  waiting 
on  him  at  table,  and  had  a favorite  dish  offered  him 
and  was  told  the  same  cook  had  prepared  it  as  he 
used  to  prefer  with  a simple  sauce-blanche  (which 
means  cream  and  chicken  gravy  usually),  he  broke 


278 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


out  into  exclamations  over  our  “ wonderful  Amer- 
ican heads  ” that  could  organize  such  results  at 
such  a distance  and  when  we  had  ^‘that  serious, 
that  dangerous  ocean  voyage  to  make  ! ” That 
ocean  always  lent  us  its  own  vastness  and  vague- 
ness. The  channel  was  his  one  sea-going  experi- 
ence, and  ours  was  as  three  thousand  miles  to 
that  twenty-seven. 

We  knew  him  first  through  an  English  friend 
who  had  said  “ You  will  find  in  him  the  lost  type  of 
the  Grand  Seignieur^'  as  he  was.  Noble  in  all  re- 
spects. And  we  were  to  him  a study.  He  said  I 
W'as  “the  first  American  lady  he  had  known.  Not 
but  that  I have  met  charming  Americans,  but  they 
were  not  original ; only  charming  copies  of  the 
Parisian  women  — channanta  mais  ioujours  des 
copies.''' 

Our  living  in  a whole  house  to  ourselves,  our 
keeping  the  children  at  home  and  having  the  gov- 
erness in  place  of  a school,  the  baby,  then  a year 
old  — all  these  surroundings  of  family  “ transported 
from  continent  to  continent  ” and  across  “ Cette  vaste 
Atlantique  ” gave  him  new  ideas  of  Americans. 


A NOBLEMAN  OF  THE  OLD  REGIME.  279 

“ And  yon  have  the  cleanly  morning  habits  of  the 
English  too,”  he  said  finding  me  always  ready  for 
his  early  visits;  and  my  French,  and  my  intimacy 
with  the  personnel  of  French  life  in  domestic  and 
political  and  military  aspects  all  delighted  him. 

How  much  more  was  I delighted  by  him.  My 
letters  about  him  to  my  father  opened  an  acquaint- 
ance between  the  two,  and  I became  their  medium 
on  some  interesting  points  of  French  modern  his- 
tory. 

All  these  letters  from  me,  many  letters  to  me 
which  I treasured,  were  in  my  father’s  house  when 
it  was  burned  in  ’55. 

Tout  passe. 

From  his  family-rights  of  intimacy  the  Count  de 
la  Garde  could  ask  anything  he  wished  of  the  new 
government.  Himself  going  nowhere,  for  excite- 
ments he  avoided,  he  intended  us  to  see  to  the 
best  advantage  all  there  should  be  to  see.  From 
the  first  military  fete  which  gave  back  to  the  army 
the  Imperial  Eagles,  throughout  all  our  stay,  cards 
were  sent  us  from  the  Tuileries  for  every  fete,  or 
ball,  or  fine  occasion  where  the  Court  took  part ; 


28o 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


both  at  home  and  at  the  great  balls  and  fetes  given 
to  it. 

The  English  coachman  and  footman  we  sent 
back  to  England  by  the  advice  of  experienced 
friends.  Indeed  the  men  showed  so  much  fight 
that  we  should  have  been  victims  to  their  inter- 
national quarrel  had  they  remained.  An  Irish 
coachman  who  had  grown  up  in  Paris  and  was 
willing  to  conform  to  their  street  regulations,  and  a 
French  footman,  put  us  on  a peace  footing.  One 
regulation  was  for  the  coachman  to  cry  out  his 
warning  aloud  as  he  drove.  No  London  coachman 
on  a private  carriage  would  demean  himself  to 
this  law.  The  street  boys  and  men,  “ les  gdmins  ” 
and  les  blouses,"  rather  liked  to  get  in  the  way 
and  get  a little  knock  down.  Then  they  had  a 
right  to  a fixed  sum  in  money  from  the  carriage- 
owner  and  had  a nice  idle  time  in  hospital.  It 
sounded  very  vulgar  to  me  to  hear  my  man  calling 
right  and  left,  but  all  had  to  do  so;  “ Gare  la  las" 
(Look  out  there),  'Giey  la  las"  (mind  down  there). 
But  Peter  was  a good  coachman  as  well  as  an 
adaptable  man  and  we  had  no  more  bad  advent-' 


A NOBLEMAN  OF  THE  OLD  REGIME.  28 1 


ures.  He  too  came  over  to  America  with  an 
American  gentleman  to  whom  I recommended 
him,  Mr.  Charles  Astor  Bristed.  Here  he  could 
drive  in  silent  dignity  which  however  relaxed  into 
nods  and  smiles  when  he  met  in  the  Park  our  chil- 
dren and  their  ponies  and  would  answer  to  their 
“ Hello,  there’s  our  Peter.” 

I ought  to  be  “ talking  Kings  and  Queens  ” and 
wars  and  fine  fetes,  but  the  underneath  of  our 
lives  — so  much  that  makes  its  usefulness  by  an 
unruffled  smoothness,  and  pleasant  atmosphere  of 
willing  intelligent  service  — depends  on  those  near- 
est us,  servants  as  well  as  family,  that  I like  to  re- 
member the  good  French  servants  who  made  so 
long  a part  of  my  life. 

We  went  forth  from  a home-atmosphere  of  per- 
fect harmony  throughout,  and  most  lovely  surround- 
ings,  into  the  fine  palaces  and  had  nowhere  a jar 
to  the  sense  of  completeness. 

As  it  was  summer  the  Prince  President  gave  a 
“ thi  dansante  ” at  St.  Cloud,  the  favorite  summer 
palace  of  Marie  Antoinette,  after,  of  Josephine. 
The  town  of  Sevres  lies  outside  of  its  grounds  and 


2S2  SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 

the  royal  factory  of  porcelain  furnishes  some  of  the 
most  beautiful  objects  in  the  palace.  There  was  a 
most  brilliant  and  exquisitely  dressed  company,  but 
not,  as  at  court  in  England,  the  old  names  and 
great  nobles  of  the  country.  These  would  have 
suffered  exile  rather  than  make  part  in  that  society. 
But  people  are  people  to  the  uninformed  eye  and 
although  practised  eyes  gave  us  a running  catalogue 
with  comments  on  those  who  were  there,  it  did  not 
hurt  the  picture  to  me.  And  having  grown  up 
among  fine  china  and  its  lovers,  I was  most  happy 
in  the  beautiful  room  where  tea  was  served.  The 
usual  many  mirrors  repeated  all  the  beauty  within 
and  the  picturesque  groups  that  walked  on  the  ter- 
race upon  which  it  opened.  Far  below  the  steep 
hill  was  the  Seine,  and  the  Bois  de  Boulogne  lay 
between  the  river  and  the  city  four  or  five  miles 
away.  A full  moon  was  shining  on  this  and  made 
a perfect  picture  as  we  sat  by  one  of  the  great  open 
windows  — opening  to  the  floor  as  they  do  in  France. 
All  about  the  room  were  small  tables  with  large 
comfortable  arm-chairs  and  short  sofas  drawn  up 
to  them.  The  tables  were  inlaid  with  paintings  on 


A NOBLEMAN  OF  THE  OLD  REGIME.  283 

china,  the  tea  equipage,  complete  on  each  table, 
was  of  varied  and  loveliest  Sevres,  the  small  tea 
kettle  alone  being  of  silver.  There  were  in  this 
way  pinks  and  pale  blues,  and  white  or  buff  tea 
setts,  and  with  the  love  for  harmony  in  color  be- 
longing with  French  taste  one  would  see  ladies 
assort  themselves  to  the  color  on  the  tea-table. 

Louis  Napoleon  was  even  more  dim-eyed  and 
silent  and  absorbed  than  later,  after  years  of  secur- 
ity relaxed  him  somewhat.  There  was  no  “ pre- 
senting.” He  entered,  followed  by  a train  of  ladies 
and  gentlemen  brilliant  in  dress  and  diamonds  and 
uniforms,  walked  through  the  parted  lines  of  guests, 
bowing  (without  looking)  right  and  left,  and  seated 
himself  where  the  diplomatic  corps  were  grouped. 
With  him,  on  his  arm,  was  a lady,  young  tall  and 
of  great  beauty  of  the  dark  order.  Her  very  black 
hair  was  simply  put  back  and  coiled  low  at  the 
back  of  her  neck  ; with  her  clinging  soft  white 
drapery  which  had  no  ornament  but  a broad  band 
of  gold  embroidery  around  the  bottom,  she  looked 
like  a noble  statue  — the  arms  were  ungloved  and 
quite  bare  to  the  shoulder,  as  everybody  has  worn 


284 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


them  of  late  without  the  justification  nature  gave 
her  for  there  was  not  a line  out  of  drawing  in  her 
whole  stately  beautiful  person.  A coronet,  a col- 
lar, and  bracelets  of  immense  lustrous  pearls  fitly 
completed  her  classical  toilette.  This  lady  how- 
ever only  represented  money.  She  was  the  wife 
of  a banker  who  had  staked  great  sums  on  the  suc- 
cess of  Napoleon.  And  he  never  forgot  his  friends. 

The  last  time  I drove  through  the  palace  grounds 
of  St.  Cloud  was  after  the  Franco-Prussian  war. 
I got  out  and  walked  about  the  broken  charred 
ruins  of  this  lovely  palace;  but  that  night  we  saw  it 
in  its  old  loveliness  and  the  moonlight  drive  home 
across  the  Bois  was  a dream  of  satisfaction. 

Telling  of  it  all  to  the  Count  de  la  Garde  he 
talked  much  with  me  of  the  Prince  President.  He 
had  known  him,  a child,  at  his  mother’s  home  in 
Switzerland,  the  chateau  of  Arenenberg.  She 
would  say  of  the  elder  boy,  who  was  very  animated 
and  gifted,  “Yes,  he  is  all  that  — but  my  little 
silent  Louis,  qiii  botide  apart,  (who  sulks  alone,)  has 
the  head  for  governing.  He  loves  power.  He 
loves  nothing  else  — not  even  himself.”  And 


A NOBLEMAN  OF  THE  OLD  REGIME.  285 

again  the  Count  would  say,  Ce  nest  pas  le  moment  de 
mourir  ; il  me  faut  le  dernier  mot  de  feci." 

The  next  word  was  the  formal  declaration  of  the 
Empire  December  2d. 

Kinglake  and  some  other  writers  have  said  the 
Emperor  had  not  personal  courage. 

That  day  it  was  tested. 

The  Republicans  who  had  put  him  in  power 
warned  him  he  should  die  if  he  altered  the  repub- 
lican form  of  government. 

We  saw  his  official  entrance  as  Emperor.  This 
time  from  our  own  house  as  the  procession  came 
into  Paris  from  St.  Cloud  and  passed  down  the 
Champs  Elys^es  to  the  Tuileries.  Our  house  being 
midway  between  the  Arc  de  Triomphe  and  the 
Palace  we  saw  everything  from  our  own  balcony. 
We  had  been  told  privately,  and  were  further  offi- 
cially notified,  that  each  house  would  be  held  re- 
sponsible for  the  conduct  of  its  inmates.  We  were 
very  safe  that  no  shot  or  angry  word  would  proceed 
from  ours.  There  were  some  agreeable  American 
friends  in  town  whom  we  asked  to  come  and  break- 
fast with  us  after  watching  the  parade  from  our 


286 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


balcony,  but  judge  of  my  annoyance  when  a number 
of  persons  — twenty  at  least  — quite  strangers  to 
me,  came,  led  by  an  American  lady  I did  know, 
but  would  not  have  invited  on  this  occasion  as  she 
was  very  much  of  a politician  and  loud  in  her  de- 
nouncement of  the  Emjieror.  She  had  lived  much 
in  Paris  and  had  always  about  her  a set  of  wild- 
eyed long-haired  young  men  who  talked  of  Liberty 
and  Tyrants. 

There  could  not  have  come  a set  of  people  who 
could  make  me  so  anxious  and  uncomfortable. 
They  quite  spoiled  the  day  for  us,  the  responsible 
people.  And  they  quite  spoiled  our  pretty  break- 
fast to  my  invited  friends  for  all  had  to  be  altered 
to  a stand-up  luncheon. 

It  was  a serious  moment  when  Louis  Napoleon 
came  in  sight.  One  shot,  and  confusion  would  re- 
turn to  France. 

He  had  used  the  Republicans  to  get  into  power 
and  now  he  was  breaking  every-  obligation  to  them. 
He  knew  he  had  deserv-ed  all  their  anger  and 
hatred. 

Whether  he  had  courage  or  not  I do  not  know. 


A NOBLEMAN  OF  THE  OLD  REGIME.  287 

What  I do  know  is  that  I saw  him  ride,  alone,  no 
troop?,  not  a single  officer  within  forty  feet  of  him 
to  his  front  or  rear  and  open  space  on  either  side 
of  him,  along  the  broad  avenue  densely  lined  by 
crowds.  Quite  separated  and  alone.  His  head 
bare.  In  one  hand  he  held  the  reins.  In  the 
other  his  hat.  Only  his  horse  was  to  share  any 
harm  that  might  come  to  him.  To  us,  the  thrill 
of  response  .to  such  evident  calm  courage,  came 
with  sudden  conviction  and  the  applause  from 
our  balcony  was  strong  and  sincere.  The  vdld- 
eyed-men  were  good  enough  only  to  look  their  dis- 
pleasure, while  the  lady  who  brought  them,  and 
who  was  wonderfully  well-read,  recited  instance  on 
instance  where  one  act  of  daring  had  captivated 
and  misled  the  public. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


PARIS. 

^ I ''HE  English  embassy  of  that  time  was  more 
dignified  and  imposing  in  its  receptions 
than  the  actual  Court,  which  still  remained  at  the 
neighboring  palace  of  the  Elysee  Bourbon  — now 
changed  in  name  to  suit  the  Bonaparte  occupant. 

When  Wellington  held  Paris  during  the  allied 
occupation  he  bought  for  the  English  government 
one  of  the  largest  and  most  stately  of  this  neigh- 
borhood of  palaces ; where,  with  high  walls  and 
gates  and  a deep  courtyard  separating  them  from 
the  street,  they  had  also  in  the  rear  small  parks 
with  noble  old  trees.  Apparently  Wellington  did 
not  find  it  a necessary  “military  precaution”  to 
cut  down  these  trees.  They  make  a stretch  of 
wooded  ground  separated  from  the  trees  of  the 
Champs  Elyse'es  by  only  a narrow  street.  Some  of 


3S8 


PARIS. 


289 


these  palaces  have  sold  of  late  for  many  millions 
of  our  money.  Wellington  gave  but  a hundred 
and  twenty  thousand  dollars  for  this  magnificent 
framing  for  his  country’s  representation.  With 
that  England  gives  an  immense  income  to  her 
minister  there,  and  special  allowance  for  all  state 
feasts.  That  for  the  Queen’s  birthday  was  always 
the  most  splendid. 

I was  there  just  before  going  to  the  evening  at 
St.  Cloud  I have  told  you  of,  and  felt  the  marked 
difference  in  the  tone  of  the  company.  The  Queen’s 
portrait,  in  royal  robes,  w'as  placed  as  she  stands 
when  holding  a Drawing-room,  and  was  treated 
with  almost  the  deference  given  to  the  Queen  her- 
self. The  large  picture  rested  on  a raised  dais, 
with  hangings  around  and  above  it  of  scarlet  and 
gold  and  the  steps  of  this  throne  were  also  cov- 
ered with  the  same  velvet.  No  seats  were  in  that 
room  except  the  few  reserved  for  the  Prince  Pres- 
ident and  his  family ; represented  then  by  his 
cousin  the  Princess  Mathilde  Demidoff,  as  it  was 
many  months  before  his  marriage. 

We  have  no  private  buildings  which  give  any 


290 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


idea  of  those  residences  built  by  the  great  nobles 
before  the  revolution.  The  size  and  height  of  the 
rooms,  their  continued  succession  on  the  same 
floor  — their  splendidly  frescoed  ceilings  and  lav- 
ish gilding  — the  immense  windows  opening  upon 
their  own  secluded  parks  reflected  in  the  long 
mirrors  lining  the  walls  opposite  the  windows, 
made  an  effect  of  space,  of  light,  of  greatness  not 
known  to  the  richest  private  modern  buildings. 

From  the  main  body  of  the  house  stretched  a 
long  wing  on  either  side  ; one  beins:  the  state  din- 
ing-room,  the  other  the  ball-room.  This  opened 
by  a high,  draperied  arch  to  the  “Throne-room,” 
and  as  seen  from  the  ball-room  the  Queen  herself 
appeared  to  be  looking  on. 

This  night  England’s  royal  flower,  the  Rose,  was 
the  only  flower  used  for  the  decorations.  The 
walls  of  the  lofty  ball-room  were  entirely  cov- 
ered by  growing  roses,  a clever  framework  of 
wood  upholding  the  blooming  plants  which  were 
so  arranged  that  only  a surface  of  continued  roses 
and  fresh  green  leaves  met  the  eye.  Garlands  of 
roses  swung  across  the  faces  of  the  mirrors,  and 


PARIS. 


291 


the  dark  rich  frescos  of  the  ceiling  and  polished 
dark  inlaid  floor  framed  in  all  this  sweet  blush  of 
color.  Only  wax-lights  were  used  in  the  many 
chandeliers  and  side-lights  of  quivering  prismatic 
Venetian  glass. 

All  wore  roses  — on  the  dress  and  in  their  bou- 
quets. The  open  space  between  the  wings  had 
been  roofed  over,  far  overhead,  with  a scarlet 
striped  awning  — and  converted  into  a rose-garden ; 
mosses  covering  the  pots,  and  rich  green  carpet- 
ing making  the  paths.  Surrounding  this  was,  on 
three  sides,  the  illuminated  palace  with  music 
floating  on  the  air  from  its  many  open  windows, 
and  from  the  band  placed  in  the  grounds  on  the 
fourth  side. 

The  Minister  himself  was  Lord  Cowley  (whose 
father  had  for  so  long  resided  there  as  Minister 
before  him),  the  nephew  of  the  Duke  of  Welling- 
ton. It  added  to  the  feeling  of  English  perma- 
nence and  stability  to  have  one  family  in  this  man- 
ner representing  their  country  for  nearly  half  a 
century. 

The  best  French  as  well  as  the  best  English 


292 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


and  other  society  met  there.  Very  clearly-defined 
differences  among  them,  but  all  of  the  proper  sub- 
dued dignified  tone  belonging  with  the  presence 
of  royalty.  There  was  nothing  of  this  at  St. 
Cloud.  That  was  only  a gathering  of  well-bred  and 
beautifully  dressed  people  of  good  society  in  a 
lovely  old  palace.  But  there  was  no  special  im- 
print of  idea  — no  unity  or  undertone  that  one 
feels  without  reasoning  over. 

The  supper-room  was  equally  superb.  An  Eng- 
lish friend  who  lived  chiefly  in  Paris  made  the 
evening  complete  by  his  knowledge  of  everyone. 
An  old  Washington  friend  of  my  mother’s  was  then 
a guest  of  Lady  Cowley  and  had  known  me  from 
my  babyhood.  Her  father,  Governor  Vanness  of 
Vermont,  had  known  Lafayette  well  and  had  him 
much  at  his  house.  Later  when  Governor  Van- 
ness was  Minister  to  Spain,  his  two  daughters 
were  married  while  they  were  abroad ; one  to  an 
American,  Mr.  Roosevelt,  the  bride  being  invited 
by  Lafayette,  who  seems  to  have  always  cherished 
his  American  associations,  to  spend  the  honey- 
moon at  his  country  seat,  La  Grange ; the  other 


PARIS. 


293 


married  an  Englishman,  Sir  Gore  Ousely,  and, 
though  living  in  India  and  England,  yet  kept  her 
warm  recollections  of  American  friends.  Lady 
Cowley  was  also  sister-in-law  to  my  friend  Lady 
Bulwer,  so  I was  among  people  who  knew  me  and 
I felt  all  the  more  pleasure  from  being  of,  as  well 
as  in,  the  company. 

A feeling  impossible  to  me  in  the  great  French 
entertainments  where  I was  an  outsider  and  spec- 
tator only. 

There  came  to  be  a great  many  of  these  when 
the  Emperor  married.  The  astonishment,  and  in- 
dignation too,  of  French  people  — high  and  low  — 
was  great  when  they  knew  it  was  to  be  only  a lady 
of  society,  and  not  even  a Frenchwoman,  who  was 
to  be  their  Empress. 

All  Paris  knew  her  by  sight  and  her  fine  horse- 
manship made  her  specially  noticeable  where  so 
few  women  rode  ; and  her  undeniable  beauty  was 
offset  by  an  equally  undeniable  “loud  style.” 

The  Italian  opera  of  Paris  is  a small  house 
holding  only  about  eighteen  hundred  people  and 
every  one  is  distinctly  seen  and  heard.  Long  be- 


294  SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 

fore  I knew  the  name  of  the  lady,  or  had  any  idea 
connected  with  her  than  that  she  was  so  beautiful 
I was  always  glad  to  look  at  her,  I was  often  sur- 
prised by  the  noisy  talking  in  her  box  — so  con- 
trary to  the  usage  among  a foreign  musical  audi- 
ence. One  night  while  Madame  de  la  Grange  was 
singing  in  one  of  the  most  delicate  passages  of 
Lucia  the  listening  silence  was  broken  by  a dis- 
tinct and  prolonged  laugh  from  that  box.  Half 
the  heads  in  the  house  turned  that  way ; another 
and  another  laugh  followed,  and  to  that  answered 
a volley  of  hisses,  showing  the  house  would  not 
tolerate  this  disregard  of  and  infringement  upon 
the  enjoyment  of  the  many,  by  any  one  person. 

It  was  noticed  that  after  the  marriage  when  the 
Emperor  and  Empress  made  the  round  of  all  the 
theatres  and  opera  the  Italiens  was  the  last  place 
they  visited.  And  then  she  seated  herself  with 
her  back  to  the  house.  But  the  other  wall  of  the 
Imperial  box  was  all  mirror  and  so  the  whole  fig- 
ure was  given. 

She  looked  more  exquisite  and  lovely  that  night 
than  I ever  saw  her  — much  more  so  than  on  the 


PARIS. 


295 


day  of  the  marriage  when  she  was  very  pale  and 
her  features  contracted  and  almost  hard  in  ex- 
pression. 

But  this  night  her  dress  suited  her.  It  was  of 
palest  pink  satin  entirely  covered  with  narrow 
overlapping  ruffles  of  Brussels  lace — fine  and 
feathery  in  its  softness.  Fastened  to  her  hair  be- 
hind was  a small  veil  of  the  same  lace  which  she 
drew  around  her  mantilla-fashion  and  a pink  rose 
nestled  behind  the  ear.  Josephine’s  famous  pearls 
which  had  been  lent  to  Madame  Walewski  to  fit 
her  out  as  Ambassadress,  were  now  restored  to 
duty  as  crown-jewels.  Josephine  had  not  been 
like  our  early  Washington — ^she  could  and  did 
tell  a little  pack  of  stories  as  to  how  she  came  by 
these  pearls,  but  she  was  no  match  for  Bonaparte 
who  frightened  the  truth  from  her  and  made  her 
miserable  about  them  — but  ail  the  same  kept  them. 
And  now  they  were  adorning  another  Bonaparte 
empress. 

The  French  pulpit  and  the  French  Senate  spoke 
through  Monseigneur  Dupanloup  and  the  Senator 
Dupin-Aine'  anJ  made  their  solemn  warning  to 


296 


SOXrVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


France  — during  the  high  days  of  success  and 
splendor  of  that  French  court.  When  you  read  of 
the  facts  brought  to  knowledge  by  the  lurid  light 
of  the  Franco-Prussian  war,  and  know  the  dread- 
ful jobbery  and  emptiness  which  was  behind  the 
parade  of  the  French  army  you  will  understand 
one  effect  of  money  having  been  put  in  place  of 
character  in  high  posts. 

The  Empress  is  a broken  woman  now  — the  lone- 
some, cruel  death  of  her  only  son,  a fine  amiable 
lad,  softened  feeling  towards  her,  and  it  is  not  a 
gracious  task  to  go  back  to  such  hard  truths ; but 
one  evil  of  that  time  has  not  diminished,  an  evil 
dating  conspicuously  from  that  Empire,  and  from 
the  Empress,  exacting  that  no  lady  should  come 
before  her  in  the  same  dress  twice.  There  is  no 
calculating  the  spread  of  this  development  of  dress 
being  made  first,  last,  and  always,  the  test  of  posi- 
tion. I find  I cannot  turn  myself  from  the  feeling 
that  I must  say  something  of  it,  although  this 
should  properly  be  a paper  to  amuse  and  not  to 
moralize.  Especially  as  I cannot  have  the  space 
to  show  it  to  you  as  I have  seen  its  contagion  in- 


PARIS. 


297 


vade  simpler  homes  and  countries  and  bring  dis- 
content and  debt — -and  worse. 

But  the  day  of  the  marriage  we  did  not  see  that. 
We  saw  a splendid  procession  of  troops,  horsemen, 
and  the  quick-moving,  fiery-eyed  small  soldiers,  of 
picked  grenadiers  and  the  splendid  “ Cent  Gardes,” 
all  in  new  and  glittering  uniforms,  emerging  from 
the  grand  Court  of  the  Tuileries  and  pouring  like 
a fast-running  stream  into  the  cleared  street  where 
soldiers  made  the  border  and  tens  of  thousands 
of  brightly  dressed  people  were  like  wild  flowers 
thick  on  the  banks. 

I had  not  again  risked  myself  in  a crowd.  It 
was  an  “ all-day  show  ” and  we  had  taken  a cor- 
ner room  of  a building,  so  placed  that  its  project- 
ing corner  window  and  balcony  gave  us  the  view 
of  the  bridal  procession  as  it  left  the  Tuileries  and 
came  directly  down  a light  descent  into  the  broad 
street  along  which  we  commanded  its  full  view  as 
it  progressed  towards  the  Cathedral  of  Notre  Dame 
where  the  ceremony  was  to  be  performed.  We 
had  our  invitations  for  the  church  — but  a crowd 
indoors  is  more  suffocating  than  even  my  street 


298 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


experience,  and  so  we  went  very  early  to  our  pre- 
pared look-out  and  were  comfortable  in  our  own 
way.  Having  a bright  wood  fire  and  cosey  break- 
fast and  the  children  safe,  though  they  were  nearly 
wild  with  the  music,  the  horses,  the  different  splen- 
did bodies  of  troops.  Ten  months  living  on  the 
Avenue  of  the  Champs  Elysees  with  its  daily  exhi- 
bition of  the  world’s  wealth  as  well  as  the  special 
features  of  French  military  and  social  magnifi- 
cence, had  made  them  critical  connoisseurs. 

There  was  one  most  interesting  venerable  figure 
— a man  of  eighty,  but  sitting  his  spirited  black 
horse  like  a young  officer.  The  Marechal  de  Loes- 
tine  represented  the  remains  of  those  great  French 
Marshals  who  had  overset  thrones,  changed  the 
map  of  Europe  and  forced  all  Europe  to  ally  to- 
gether to  terminate  their  victorious  career. 

Punctually,  so  e.xact  to  the  moment  that  with  a 
look  at  the  clock  the  young  heads  would  turn  to 
the  window,  and  there  sure  and  true  to  the  time, 
would  the  Marshal  be  seen  riding  past  on  his  long- 
tailed black  Arab  — a present  from  the  Sultan  of 
Turkey.  At  the  proper  distance  behind  him  fol- 


PARIS. 


299 


lowed  on  another  young  and  fine  black  horse,  his 
orderly ; a perfect  picture  of  the  “ vieiix  mous- 
tache” erect,  grim,  his  long  grey  moustache  cover- 
ing his  mouth,  but  his  faithful  eyes  fixed  on  his 
master  and  chief. 

That  was  a picture  we  never  tired  of.  All  hats 
went  off  as  the  pair  passed.  They  were  an  em- 
bodied and  true  page  of  glorious  days,  and  soldier 
and  general  with  their  record  in  common,  appealed 
to  all  classes. 

This  marriage  day,  when  after  awhile  a clear 
space  followed  the  dense  stream  of  troops,  there 
came  the  single  figure  of  the  Marechal.  His  horse 
as  well  as  himself  gorgeous  in  gala-day  dress  and 
excited  by  the  crowds  and  music  showing  off  its 
beauty  in  its  light  graceful  undulating  movements, 
and  showing  off  too  the  horsemanship  of  its  ven- 
erable rider. 

Then,  slowly  advancing,  came  the  bride  and 
bridegroom  in  a “glass  coach”  drawn  by  eight 
superb  English  horses  — bright  bays.  This  “glass 
coach”  we  had  seen  at  the  Trianon  at  Versailles 
where  it  was  kept  among  other  State  carriages  of 


300 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


past  royalty.  It  had  been  used  by  Marie  Antoi- 
nette and  Marie  Louise,  the  royal  Austrians  whose 
fate  it  had  been  to  become  political  hostages  to 
France.  High-swung  with  great  length  between 
the  front  and  hind  wheels,  it  seemed  more  like  a 
great  bonbonniere  than  a carriage;  of  the  shape 
children  know  from  English  fairy-tale  pictures  of 
Cinderella’s  coach,  it  was  completely  of  glass  ex- 
cept the  floor  and  the  roof  and  its  necessary  sup- 
ports. These  were  all  thickly  gilded.  On  top  was 
a gold  crown.  The  seats  were  covered  with  white 
satin.  The  Emperor  and  Empress  — for  the  civil 
marriage  which  French  law  requires  to  come  first 
had  legally  made  her  Empress  the  day  before  — ^ 
sat  beside  each  other ; on  the  front  seat  was  her 
ermine  wrap  and  an  immense  bouquet  of  orange 
blossoms.  His  uniform  and  stars  and  orders  gave 
him  some  brilliancy,  but  all  eyes  were  on  the  pale 
bride.-  She  must  have  had  the  feeling  attributed 
to  her ; for  everywhere  her  peculiar  look  was  no- 
ticed and  all  the  papers,  foreign  and  French,  said 
about  the  same  we  thought  — and  what  time  proved 
true  — that  the  French  people  did  not  like  her  and 


PARIS. 


301 


that  the  crowds  which  were  there  to  see  her  mar- 
riage would  more  eagerly  drive  her  from  the  Tuil- 
eries. 

As  they  did.  And  but  for  the  Italian  Minister 
M.  de  Negra,  M.  de  Lesseps,  and  the  American 
Dr.  Evans,  they  would  have  taken  her  life. 

Certainly  she  was  pale  to  a blanched  look  of 
lips  as  well  as  cheeks  — she  who  had  the  purest 
complexion  of  tender  rose  and  cream.  She  seemed 
a wax  image,  so  still  — so  controlled — not  a look 
or  smile,  but  an  evident  painful  self-control. 

This,  with  the  Emperor’s  half-shut  eyes  and  rigid 
upright  attitude,  gave  no  idea  of  a bridal  pair. 
Eut  the  dress  was  all  right.  Though  there  she 
had  given  serious  offence  to  not  only  the  French 
pride  but  the  French  pocket.  The  Queen  of  Eng- 
land had  her  wedding  dress  made  of  Honiton  lace 
— the  same  she  gave  lately  to  her  youngest  daugh- 
ter to  be  married  in  — in  order  to  set  a fashion 
and  bring  prosperity  to  English  lace-makers.  The 
French  lace-makers  of  Alengon  had  prepared  the 
veil  and  dress  of  the  finest  Point  d’  Alen9on  for 
the  bride  of  the  French  throne,  This  she  would 


302 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


not  wear  but  instead,  her  dress  of  uncut  white  vel- 
vet was  covered  with  old  English  point  lace  and  a 
veil  of  the  same  English  lace  wrapped  her.  This 
was  a blunder.  Coming  as  you  see  from  the  gov- 
erning passion  of  Eugenie  for  costly  dress  — for 
old  English  point  is  greatly  more  costly  and  rare 
than  the  most  beautiful  of  modem  manufacture. 

She  had  not  been  brought  up  to  the  duties  of 
royalty  which  are  many  and  heavy,  and  require 
constant  remembrance  that  if  accident  has  placed 
you  in  position  to  govern,  the  countr}’  to  be  gov- 
erned has  its  rights  and  usages  which  must  be  re- 
spected. And  with  all  her  exquisite  beauty,  this 
Empress  of  France  was  thoroughly  selfish  and  had 
none  of  that  gentleness  and  quick  sympathy  and 
consideration  for  others  which  made  for  poor  weak 
stoty-telling  Josephine  friends  in  all  ranks.  This 
courtesy  of  the  heart  is  inborn,  but  its  imitation, 
the  courtesy  of  high  good-breeding,  can  be  taught 
— the  two  combined  make  the  perfect  lady  be  she 
queen  or  quiet  gentlewoman. 


CHAPTER  XX. 


MEN,  WOMEN  AND  THINGS. 

The  Count  de  la  Garde  had  been  friends  from 
childhood  with  Madame  Recamier  whose 
lovable  disposition  was  as  well  known  as  her  re- 
markable beauty.  They  had  lived  near  each  other 
in  the  country  where,  though  of  very  different 
ranks,  their  mothers  had  a bond  in  common  in 
good  works  for  the  Church  and  for  the  poor  of  their 
neighborhood.  The  life  of  good  Frenchwomen  of 
all  ranks  — and  the  good  make  the  immense  ma- 
jority— is  founded  on  religion  ; and  idleness,  self- 
indulgence,  waste  of  time  or  money,  is  not  known 
to  them.  It  is  a bad  stamp  on  any  woman,  rich  or 
poor,  noble  or  not,  to  live  only  for  show  and  plea- 
sure. Our  Dr.  Watts  says  Satan  will  find  work  to 
do  for  idle  men  and  boys.  He  has  a greater  vari- 
ety still  of  bad  work  for  idle  women  and  girls. 


303 


304 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


Public  sentiment  and  long  usage  have  settled  this 
matter  in  France  and  to  this  is  added  the  watchful 
care  of  the  church,  and  the  friendly  relation  be- 
tween priest  and  parishioners  is  charming. 

I do  not  speak  of  Paris  where  all  things  are 
modified  by  the  tides  of  strangers  pouring  through 
and  unsettling  usages;  but  even  there  there  is 
much  of  this.  Outside,  in  France,  it  is  another 
life.  For  Paris  is  not  France.  Not  any  more 
than  New  York  city  is  the  United  States.  Although 
New  Yorkers  and  foreigners  think  so,  we  know  bet- 
ter, and  that  the  Daisy  Millers  and  their  unhealthy 
sharp  little  brothers  and  feeble-minded  mothers  do 
not  represent  us  all. 

“ Cent  7nille  Atnericaincs,  chaaine  ayant  cent  milU 
fra7ics  en  poche,  coura7it  (a  et  la,  jettant  leur  arge7it par 
les  grand  routes  — quel  de7)ioralization  ! A hundred 
thousand  American  women,  each  one  with  a hun- 
dred thousand  francs  in  her  pocket,  rushing  hither 
and  thither,  scattering  their  money  broadcast  along 
the  highways  — what  demoralization  !” 

This  is  what  a Parisian  of  age  and  position  said 


to  me. 


MEN,  WOMEN  AND  THINGS.  305 

“And  they  come  alone!  They  come  for  a winter, 
a year,  several  years.  They  put  their  children  in 
schools  and  then  ''elks  s'aniicsent.'  Quel  fate  son/ 
ils  les  marls  ? (What  sort  of  dough  are  the  husbands 
made  of  ? )” 

The  difference  of  language  makes  of  French 
reading  sealed  books  to  those  who  do  not  know  the 
language.  For,  as  a rule,  no  translations  are  made 
unless  publishers  find  them  profitable.  And  good 
books  are  not  so  sure  to  make  money  for  them  as 
bad  ones. 

I am  not  sure  that  there  is  a translation  of  a lit- 
tle book  which  gives  a lovely  picture  of  plain  ordi- 
nary French  life  among  people  of  small  means  and 
cultivated  minds,  and  “ good  positions  ; ” a very 
strong  point  with  them  and  jealously  guarded  not 
by  “ appearances  ” but  hy  facts  of  honorable  living. 
It  is  called  Une  famille  a la  Campagne,  and  was  writ- 
ten by  Madame  de  Witt,  a daughter  of.  Guizo.t.  It 
is  a book  to  know  and  be  the  better  for.  And  it 
represents  better  than  any  light  modern  book  I re- 
member that  atmosphere  of  honorable  economy, 
of  care  of  their  children  by  the  parents  and  of  the 


3o6  souvenirs  of  my  time. 

parents  by  their  children ; of  simplicity  combined 
with  comfort  and  care  of  health,  and  of  that  sense 
of  DUTY  which  is  the  keystone  of  family  and  public 
life,  and  which  does  belong  to  the  French  as  a na- 
tion. 

This  was  the  public  opinion  which  was  both 
wounded  and  alarmed  by  the  Second  Empire  ; and 
the  real  France  which  instantly  took  up  their  war 
debt  to  Prussia;  which  is  now,  dimly,  but  persever- 
ingly  holding  fast  to  the  idea  of  a Republic  and  in 
time  will  get  there. 

Madame  Recamier  was  the  greatest  beauty  of 
Europe,  and  her  husband  one  of  the  wealthiest 
bankers  of  France  in  the  early  days  of  this  century 
when  the  young  Count  de  la  Garde  was  sent  to 
Paris  to  try  and  get  back  some  of  his  family  prop- 
erty. 

Bonaparte  wished  to  please  and  bring  to  his  new 
court  the  great  nobles  who  were  in  exile,  and  had 
announced  his  intention  to  benefit  those  who  gave 
in  their  adhesion  tc  him.  Many  would  not.  Duch- 
esses continued  to  knit  purses  for  sale  and  live  on 


MEN,  WOMEN  AND  THINGS. 


307 


scant  earnings  and  small  money  rather  than  “ hu- 
miliate ” themselves.  Dukes,  marquises,  counts, 
gave  lessons  in  French,  in  fencing,  in  dancing,  cul- 
tivated market  gardens,  did  everything  they  could 
to  support  themselves ; and  the  greater  number 
only  returned  when  the  Allies  opened  the  way  and 
put  Louis  XVIII.  on  the  throne  — a selfish  and  un- 
grateful monarch  who  was  not,  personally,  worth 
their  loyalty  — but  he  represented  their  idea. 
During  the  revolution  and  the  long  years  of  pov- 
erty in  foreign  lands  which  followed,  the  French 
nobles,  women  especially,  gave  a most  beautiful 
sustained  example  of  cheerful  courage  and  fine 
acceptance  of  changed  fortunes.  There  is  no  par- 
allel to  it  until  we  come  to  our  day,  and  in  our  own 
country  see  it  equalled  by  the  way  the  South  has 
met  its  tremendous  change  of  fortunes,  and  the 
gallant  courage  and  success  with  which  they  are 
building  up  a new  South. 

The  count  was  equipped  from  the  remaining  best 
clothes  (ten  years  old  ! ) and  a small  purse  made 
up  for  his  expenses.  With  the  generous  enthusi- 
asm of  youth  and  the  trust  of  inexperience  nerving 


3o8 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


him  to  the  attempt  to  bring  back  comfort  to  some 
of  these  much-tried  families,  the  young  ambassador 
crossed  the  dreaded  channel  and  arrived  in  Paris 
only  to  find  himself  unable  to  get  a hearing  at  the 
Department.  And  his  queer  costume  brought  ridi- 
cule on  him  from  the  lesser  officials,  as  well  as  in 
the  streets. 

English  nankeen  trousers,  French  dress  shoes 
with  great  gold  buckles  (a  survival  of  flying  feet 
in  the  “Days  of  Terror”  ),  a court  dress-coat  of 
dark  velvet  with  gold  buttons,  and  on  the  shirt, 
frills  of  old  Mechlin  lace  — with  his  boy’s  face  and 
long  light  curls,  he  must  have  been  queer. 

“For  the  first  time,”  so  he  told  me,  “the  lUtcr- 
71CSS  of  poverty  cut  me  to  the  heart  and  angered  me. 
Our  poverty  was  our  badge  of  honorable  suffering 
for  a noble  cause.  We  were  respected  in  England 
and  there  our  equals  honored  us.  But  here,  in  my 
own  country,  where  my  people  were  Grand  Seig- 
nieurs  and  had  spent  and  shared  their  wealth  in  a 
grand  fashion,  here  I was  only  a figure  to  be 
mocked  at.” 

The  poor  boy’s  heart  sank  as  day  followed  day 


MEN,  WOMEN  AND  THINGS. 


309 


and  he  still  failed  to  get  a hearing.  His  small 
stock  of  money  was  getting  very  low. 

It  pained  him  to  brave  the  laugh  of  the  streets, 
but  he  faced  it  as  his  people  had  faced  danger  and 
death  in  battle  ; he  too  was  doing  battle  for  his 
father.  The  mother  was  at  rest  where  there  are 
no  more  tears. 

He  cut  off  the  curls  she  had  loved  — and  felt  he 
was  a man  to  do  a man’s  work  for  the  weak  and 
aged. 

Another  sneering  refusal  to  admit  him  to  the 
Minister  gave  him  the  courage  of  despair. 

He  had  seen  the  splendid  equipage,  and  heard 
the  praises  of  Madame  Recamier.  for  all  Paris  was 
proud  of  her.  She  was  an  uncrowned  queen  of 
French  society. 

He  remembered  their  playmate  days  in  child- 
hood when  they  followed  their  mothers  into  cot- 
tages and  infirmaries  and  hushed  their  young 
gayety  to  join  in  the  prayer  for  the  sick  or  the 
ministering  to  the  aged. 

“ I will  go  to  hcr,"\\Q  thought.  And  again  a re- 
buff met  him.  The  servants  in  their  fine  liveries 


310 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


looked  down  with  derision  on  this  strangely-clad 
and  gentle  boy.  In  their  eyes  lie  could  not  be  a 
gentleman  for  his  clothes  were  out  of  all  fashion. 

Desperate,  his  pride  rose.  “Go  to  your  mis- 
tress,” he  ordered.  “Go  to  Madame  Recamier. 
Tell  her  it  is  the  young  Count  de  la  Garde.  Tell 
her  it  is  To-xo  who  asks  to  see  Lota  (their  home 
pet-names). 

The  servant  felt  the  authority  and  went  off  — 
leaving  him,  however,  in  the  antechamber. 

Quickly  came  the  sound  of  light  footsteps  and  a 
voice  where  tears  and  joy  struggled  — “ done 
moil  pauvre  To-to"  — and  hurrying  to  him  out  into 
the  antechamber,  among  the  valets,  ran  the  lovely 
sweet  woman  crying  for  all  the  sorrows  of  these 
3'ears  but  glad  to  find  again  her  dear  playmate 
the  dear  child  of  her  mother's  noble  and  gracious 
friend. 

You  can  fancy  the  change  towards  him  now. 
Not  only  from  the  men  in  livery  but  from  the  men 
in  office.  M.  Recamier  took  up  the  cause  of  the 
impoverished  nobles,  and  his  wife  saw  Josephine, 
and  quickly  all  was  changed. 


MEN,  WOMEN  AND  THINGS. 


3” 


Bonaparte  was  generous,  and  his  graciousness 
won  over  other  of  their  noble  friends,  so  the  boy’s 
mission  bore  good  fruit ; and  both  his  father  and 
some  of  their  companions  in  e.xile  had  their  last 
years  soothed  by  ease  and  familiar  surroundings. 

“ By  birth,  and  through  suffering,  I am  a royal- 
ist,” said  the  count ; “ but  I am  a Bonapartist 
through  gratitude  and  (with  a quiet  smile)  partly 
also  through  conviction.” 

The  manner  of  marriages  among  us  interested 
him.  “ Extraordinaire  ! ” was  his  comment  on 
its  being  a matter  of  mutual  choice.  It  is  so  dif- 
ferent in  France  and  especially  in  his  class  where 
it  is  made  first  a matter  of  mutual  advantage  ; 
settled  for  the  young  people  by  their  parents  and 
their  friends. 

He  had  just  arranged  a marriage  of  this  kind 
for  the  orphan  daughter  of  a friend,  and  we  were 
invited  to  the  church  marriage,  and  the  breakfast 
that  followed  at  the  house  of  the  bridegroom, 
who  was  very  wealthy  and  much  older  than  the 
bride. 


312 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


You  need  not  give  her  any  pity.  She  w ;s  entirely 
contented  and  would  have  felt  any  other  way  of 
going  about  marriage  very  derogator}'. 

She  was  not  handsome,  nor  very  young,  and  had 
but  a small  dowry.  But  she  was  of  great  family 
and  had  powerful  and  wealthy  relations.  The 
bridegroom  was  of  middle  age,  a Baron  of  good  but 
not  important  family,  but  he  had  veiy'  large  fortune. 
The  wedding  breakfast  was  at  his  house,  a beauti- 
ful though  not  grand  house  in  the  aristocratic  Fan- 
boug  St.  Germain. 

The  Count  de  la  Garde  was  present  at  the  church 
and  gave  away  the  bride  but  would  not  break  his 
habits  so  far  as  to  be  at  the  breakfast  which  he  said 
would  be  too  long.  He  preferred  coming  the  next 
morning,  he  said,  for  me  to  tell  him  of  it. 

It  amused  and  interested  me  as  the  realization 
of  things  I had  read  of.  First  the  bride,  who  was 
polite  but  indifferent  and  without  interest  in  the 
occasion.  The  bride's  mother  and  some  other 
P'rench  ladies  rather  eyed  me,  but  fell  into  court- 
esy and  questionings;  — taking  me  into  a large 
drawingroom  where  the  ■uuhok  trousseau  was  ex- 


MEN,  WOMEN  AND  THINGS. 


313 


hibited  from  stockings  to  bonnets.  The  walls  were 
hung  with  dresses  and  shawls  and  wraps  — around 
the  room  were  many  tables  covered  with  piles  and 
piles  of  “ lingerie  ” in  many  dozens,  each  dozen 
tied  separately  with  pretty  ribbons  — bonnets,  par- 
asols, everything.  And  house-linen  enough  for  a 
small  shop.  While  complete parures  of  pearls  and 
diamonds  and  many  smaller  jewels  were  on  the 
central  table. 

“ Do  you  exhibit  all  such  things  in  America  ? ” 
I was  asked,  and  was  pleased  to  answer,  no. 

We  were  about  twenty-four  at  the  breakfast.  Mr. 
Fremont  was  placed  on  the  left  hand  of  the  bride 
and  I had  the  same  post  of  honor  by  the  groom. 
He  of  course  took  in  the  bride’s  mother  who  was 
not  amiable-looking,  but  very  aristocratic — and 
evidently  satisfied  with  the  whole  business.  Mr. 
Fremont  had  a very  witty  talkative  fine-looking  old 
lady,  a great  deal  of  a somebody,  who  was  as 
pleased  with  him  as  a child  with  a new'  toy,  and 
was  taking  him  to  pieces  with  questions.  She  had 
evidently  been  coached  to  points  — “ that  he  was  a 
traveller,  etc.,  etc.,”  and  she  had  made  a droll- 


314 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


jumble  of  lions  and  Indians  and  terrific  heats  and 
all  she  thought  it  would  be  appropriate  to  him  to 
talk  of. 

I wms  better  off,  thougn  to  begin  I was  asked  if 
we  “ had  any  oysters  in  America  ? ” apropos  to 
those  before  us  I was  not  asked  if  we  had  chick- 
ens or  asparagus,  but  I did  cause  surprise  by 
leaving  my  fork  on  my  plate  after  each  course.  I 
did  not  notice  this  until,  burning  with  curiosity,  the 
Prince  asked  me,  “ Do  you  then  in  America  do  as 
in  Kngland  and  have  a separate  ‘ convert  ’ (knife 
fork  and  spoon)  for  each  course.  I see  your  hus- 
band also  leaves  his  on  the  plate.” 

It  was  an  old  fashioned  family,  with  all  old  cus- 
toms and  servants,  and  I was  told  that  except  foi 
fish  or  dessert  only  the  plates  were  changed  ; these, 
calmly  drew' the  knife  blade  through  a bit  of  bread. 
And  yet  the  service,  dishes  and  all,  was  of  suberb 
silver  and  gold  plate  fairly  embossed  with  armorial 
bearings.  And  the  company  was  to  match.  The 
Prince  de  Montleart  who  took  me  in,  an  elderly 
sarcastic  witty  little  Italian,  was  married  to  the 
Queen  of  Sardinia,  mother  of  Victor  Emanuel  and 


MEN,  WOMEN  AND  THINGS.  315 

grandmother  to  the  present  King  of  Italy.  He  too 
asked  endless  questions  about  usages  of  American 
society  and  concluded  we  were  very  like  English 
people  only  '■‘‘plus  souple  (more  adaptable)  ” as  we 
are. 

“ Was  I not  going  to  remain  always  in  Paris 
Why  not  ? You  have  all  that  is  needed  for  success 
here,”  he  said,  and  counted  over  the  requirements 
as  he  understood  them.  “ Many  American  ladies 
do  remain  here — des  char77ia}ites  exotiques  tnvis- 
plaiiteh.” 

“ But,”  I said  “ you  may  transplant  flowers,  but 
an  oak  is  not  the  same  rs  a flower,  and  my  family 
roots  are  in  their  own  soil.” 

“ Ah  ! qa  — ” he  said,  turning  to  fix  his  look  on 
me.  “ You  have  then  your  pride  of  family  even  in 
a Republic ! ” 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


AMERICAN  MIDSHIPMEN  IN  PARIS. 

This  chapter  is  especially  for  boys.  There 
are  no  longer  “midshipmen”  in  our  Navy; 
the  name  so  full  of  meaning,  so  associated  with  gay, 
healthy,  honest  mischief  — and  courage  and  pluck 
too  — is  abolished,  and  so  my  souvenir  of  certain 
youngsters  and  their  young  doings  belongs  with 
other  past  and  pleasant  times.  But  there  will 
never  be  an  end  to  the  boys  who  seem  to  be  born 
web-footed;  who  wear  out  volumes  of  Talcs  of  the 
Sea,  and  One  Thousand  Stories  of  Peril  of  Ship- 
wreck and  Escape;  whose  sisters  read  to  them 
again  and  again  not  only  Robinson  Crusoe  (of 
course  R.  C.  leads),  but  Marrj'att  and  Cooper; 
who  find  comfort  in  trvdng  times  of  discipline  by 
planning  to  run  away  to  sea  (to  be  free  !)  or  who 

resolutely  go  into  sea-life  and  find  it  fascinating 
316 


TOMB  OF  NAi’OLEON 


AMERICAN  MIDSHIPMEN  IN  PARIS.  317 

while  they  feel  too  its  loneliness,  its  separations 
and  its  many  discomforts.  Still  they  go.  And 
many  feel  that  is  their  most  congenial  life. 

I comprehend  them,  and  when  I came  as  nigh 
as  my  disability  in  being  a woman  permitted,  and 
found  myself  represented  by  a “ web-footed  ” 
youngster  at  the  Naval  Academy,  it  became  a real 
enjoyment  to  me  to  go  often  to  Annapolis  ; to  share 
their  ups  and  downs  of  Academy  life  — say  a good 
word  for  them  when  they  were  in  trouble  with  the 
higher  powers,  and  take  nice  girls  to  their  “ hops,” 
and  in  many  ways  have  part  in  their  lives ; for  I 
was  soon  voted  to  be  the  “class-mother.” 

Very  healthy  energetic  boys  have  such  trying 
overflow  of  vitality  that  often  from  six  to  eighteen 
the  finest  boys  have  no  friend  but  their  mother. 
(I  knew  “ how  it  was  myself,”  you  see,  for  I was 
called  “Tom-boy,”  and  never  had  an  untom  dress 
in  my  very  young  time.) 

So  I understood  boy-nature  and  knew  that  what- 
ever was  open,  and  only  the  natural  outcome  of 
strength  and  will  and  courage  and  fun  would  come 
out  all  right  when  it  settled  into  working  channels. 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


318 

For  the  four  years  of  the  course  I was  constant- 
ly at  Annapolis,  and  if  I gave  pleasure  I received 
full  as  much  in  the  honest  affection  they  gave  me, 
and  the  amusement  they  gave  also. 

One  day  the  Secretary  of  the  Na\y  came  down 
w'hile  I was  on  a visit  to  the  officer  in  command 
there  — Admiral  Porter,  the  distinguished  son  of 
a famous  father.  It  was  an  old  friendship  between 
our  families  and  then  ourselves.  And  Admiral 
Porter  had  saved  my  life  eighteen  years  before  this 
San  Francisco-born  midshipman  came  under  liis 
care. 

When  any  one  does  you  a great  sendee  they  like 
yo\i.  The  proverb  says  “ Save  a man’s  life  and  he 
will  be  yovir  enemy  ” — perhaps  being  a woman 
makes  it  work  the  other  way,  for  it  is  certainly  a 
fast  friendship  all  round  with  us ; and  it  was  in 
every  way  an  advantage  that  my  son  had  such 
an  example  and  such  kind  good  will  over  him.  Of 
course  the  unbending  severe  rules  could  not  be 
relaxed,  but  Admiral  Porter  had  a happy  way  of 
noticing  and  encouraging  openly,  while  his  equally 
just  reproofs  were  made  quietly,  and  every  chance 


AMERICAN  MIDSHIPMEN  IN  PARIS.  319 

opened  for  return  to  good  conduct.  He  was  in  all 
ways  admirable  over  young  men  and  boys. 

It  was  a good  deal  to  do  to  differ  with  him,  for 
he  knew  all  sides  of  their  Academy  business.  But 
the  Secretary,  Mr.  Borie,  and  myself  did  differ 
from  the  Admiral  as  to  the  annual  practice-cruise. 
Mr.  Borie,  being  half  French,  thought  it  well  the 
young  people  should  see  France  and  not  repeat 
year  after  year  the  same  cruise  to  Madeira  or 
along  our  northeast  coast. 

As  I was  just  going  to  Paris  I eagerly  supported 
Mr.  Borie.  The  Admiral  set  out  the  objections  — 
that  the  young  gentlemen  (that  is  the  correct  ex- 
pression) would  get  into  mischief,  make  trouble 
with  authorities  and  spend  all  their  money  fool- 
ishly, etc.,  etc.  Brest  and  Cherbourg  were  bad 
enough,  but  Paris  ! to  let  them  go  there  ! Impos- 
sible. All  the  same  the  order  was  issued  from  the 
Navy  Department  and  the  rolling  old  Savannah 
carried  off  her  crowd  of  midshipmen  for  Cherbourg 
and  Paris. 

And  to  Paris  they  came.  A hundred  and  twen- 
ty-nine as  creditable  young  Americans  as  national 


320 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


pride  could  wish.  Their  steady  exercises,  their 
trained  and  disciplined  lives,  and  their  perfect 
decorum  and  exquisite  neatness  made  them  excep- 
tional lads.  For  they  ranged  from  fifteen  to 
twenty,  and  really  that  is  young. 

Three  of  the  number,  who  spoke  French  and 
who  had  also  their  families  just  then  in  Paris,  were 
sent  ahead  to  carry  out  the  arrangements  for  the 
rest.  They  came  up  from  Cherbourg  in  great 
spirits.  An  unusually  stormy  passage  and  an  old 
rolling  tub  of  a ship  had  kept  them  long  out;  and 
for  the  concluding  eight  days  they  were  wet  and 
tired  and  hungry,  as  it  was  nearly  impossible  to 
cook.  And  remember  this  was  a “ practice-cruise  ” 
and  the  young  gentlemen  did  regular  seaman  duty; 
which  increased  painfully  that  fine  appetite  which 
is  one  of  the  characteristics  of  a midshipman. 

So  when  the  first  refreshment  station  was 
reached  they  scornfully  rejected  what  the  guard 
brought  them  in  answer  to  their  order  for  chicken, 
bread  and  grapes.  No  “ half ’’-chickens  for  them! 
No  indeed.  There,  and  at  each  of  the  three 
stations,  these  youngsters  had  each  a whole  chicken 


AMERICAN  MIDSHIPMEN  IN  PARIS. 


321 


and  bread  and  grapes  in  proportion,  and  I can 
answer  for  my  midshipman  being  hungry  still  for 
two  days.  And  they  left  at  each  station  the  order 
to  have  the  same-sized  ration  ready  for  each  of  the 
large  number  who  were  to  follow  next  day.  Imag- 
ine the  astonishment  and  delight  of  such  an  order 
in  frugal  France. 

We  were  only  at  a hotel,  but  had  with  us  one  of 
our  old  servants  who  knew  this  lad  when  he  was  a 
baby  and  had  often  comforted  him  with  a lump  of 
sugar  after  his  falls  on  the  slippery  parquetted 
floors  which  do  not  favor  a baby’s  attempts  to 
walk. 

Frangois  put  his  best  skill  and  energies  at  the 
disposal  of  my  son’s  young  friends  who  were  asked 
by  us  to  make  our  rooms  their  headquarters.  All 
day  long  our  dining-room  was  kept  in  freshly  sup- 
plied condition  for  them.  Their  favorite  cold 
chicken,  with  many  another  “ shore  ” delicacy,  was 
there  ready  in  unfailing  supply. 

That  they  should  all  prefer  syrups  and  seltzer- 
water  when  there  was  wine  and  claret  was  a won- 
der to  the  butler.  Also  they  did  not  smoke  — 


322 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


some  because  they  did  not  like  it  — all  because  it 
was  against  the  regulations.  It  was  one  of  many 
proofs  they  gave  of  being  on  honor.  This  visit  to 
Paris  was  strongly  disapproved  of  by  the  Admiral, 
and  the  young  gentlemen  felt  more  than  ever  bound 
to  give  him  no  cause  for  regret  that  they  had  this 
pleasure. 

We  had  made  a little  programme  for  them  — as 
many  as  chose  to  come.  It  is  not  etiquette  for  the 
older  classes  to  go  with  the  fourth  or  youngest  class 
to  which  my  son  belonged,  so  only  about  twenty 
were  his  guests.  Landaus  took  these  to  visit  the 
palaces  and  the  Jardin  des  Plantes  with  its  collec- 
tion of  animals ; and  for  a drive  through  the  Bois 
de  Boulogne,  with  Francois  guiding  and  attending 
to  everything.  At  intervals  they  came  back  and 
“ had  some  refreshment.”  In  the  evening  the 
General  and  myself  took  them  to  the  brightest  and 
gayest  spot  in  Paris  — the  Palais  Royal  — where 
they  were  so  openly  admired  and  looked  after  that 
they  had  a bashful  feeling  as  they  sat  taking  ices 
at  little  tables  under  the  trees,  and  gladly  retreated 
into  a shop  where  each  man  of  them  bought  a cane ! 


AMERICAN  MIDSHIPMEN  IN  PARIS.  323 


Except  an  umbrella,  the  most  useless  thing  possible 
on  shipboard.  The  shopman  was  amused,  and 
delighted  too,  asking  us  if  ces  jeunes  militaires  were 
English  ? Proudly  we  said,  “ No,  Americains  ! ” 
and  their  fine  modest  manners  and  hearty  boyish- 
ness joined  to  their  remarkably  fine  appearance, 
might  well  astonish  people  unused  to  such  a whole- 
some combination. 

It  was  June  and  warm.  They  wore  the  summer 
uniform  ; blue  jacket  with  white  duck  trousers 
and  cap,  and  moved  with  the  elastic  grace  and 
precision  of  high  health  and  drilled  muscles. 

The  General  wanted  them  each  to  choose  a lit- 
tle souvenir  from  us  at  one  of  the  pretty  shops,  and 
their  simplicity  of  tastes  pleased  us.  One  chose 
an  ivory  pocket-book  with  smooth  rounded  sides 
“ because  it  looked  so  like  a cake  of  almond  soap.” 
He  is  a prosperous  married  man  now  and  shows 
me  occasionally  his  “ cake  of  soap,”  for  my  young 
people  have  remained  friends  with  me. 

They  were  to  have  but  two  full  days,  not  count- 
ing the  arriving  and  departing.  Those  with  fami- 
lies to  answer  for  them  were  to  have  a full  week. 


324 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


I gave  myself  the  pleasure  of  taking  them  to  the 
Tomb  of  Napoleon  — a military  Mecca  — and  after, 
to  Versailles  where  one  of  my  family  had  a chateau 
with  lovely  grounds,  and  had  ready  for  them  a 
croquet  party  and  girls  / Girls  being  pre-eminently 
the  highest  of  “ shore  ” delights. 

Punctually  our  string  of  carriages  was  in 
waiting  for  the  gates  of  the  Invalides  to  open. 
One  lad,  from  Missouri,  who  was  in  my  carriage 
broke  into  a chuckling  laugh.  “ I say.  Jack,  what 
fun  this  is!  It  makes  me  laugh  to  see  that  bald- 
headed  old  fellow  (Francois  the  dignified  butler) 
going  round  with  that  velvet  bag  and  paying 
everything,  and  we  just  having  the  fun  of  it.”  But 
as  the  sentries  opened  the  gates,  the  military  at- 
mosphere told  on  them  all.  No  more  jokes  or 
larking.  They  fell  into  ranks,  and  the  couples  of 
handsome  tall  lads  in  faultless  blue  and  white 
uniform  stepped  as  if  on  parade,  their  light  grace- 
ful movement  pleasing  every  soldier  eye  that  saw 
them.  The  sentries  saluted  them.  And  before 
we  were  well  on  our  way  through  the  building 
the  rumor  of  something  unusual  in  visitors  had 


AMERICAN  MIDSHIPMEN  IN  PARIS.  325 


reached  the  upper  authorities,  and  an  official 
came  to  me  to  say  certain  rooms  and  trophies 
not  open  to  ordinary  visitors  would  be  opened  to 
“ les  messieurs  militaires.”  When  in  crossing  the 
courts,  or  in  the  halls  my  young  people  had  met 
one  of  the  Invalides  — old,  hobbling,  mutilated  — 
it  was  no  formal  salute  they  made,  but,  with  a 
right  instinct  of  honor  to  duty  well  done  in  great 
days,  they  wheeled  in  line  and  lifted  their  caps. 

At  the  Tomb  itself  their  bared  heads,  their 
respectful  manner  and  correct  military  attitude,  I 
could  see,  gratified  to  the  highest  our  special 
official,  and  the  old  soldiers  always  on  guard  there. 

It  is  a most  fitting  place  for  the  great  soldier  to 
lie.  Under  that  lofty  gilded  dome  among  the 
survivors  of  the  wars  that  shook  all  Europe. 

From  there  we  were  escorted  through  the  whole 
building  and  into  its  reserved  rooms  usually 
opened  only  to  great  dignitaries. 

How  proudly  I answered  that  they  were  “ Amer- 
ican ” you  may  imagine.  It  was  a thorough  sur- 
prise to  the  upper  officials,  who  met  and  showed 
US  models  and  charts  and  lots  of  things  the  young 


326 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


men  were  charmed  with,  and  proved  by  their  in- 
telligent remarks  they  were  up  to  it  all ; they  had 
no  such  idea  of  Young  America.  lls  ont  Pair 
des  Princes^'  they  said  to  me. 

What  Francois  had  been  saying  below  I could 
only  guess,  but  '•'■Madame  la  Presidente”  was  the 
smallest  title  given  me. 

An  invitation  to  the  mess-room  of  the  old  sol- 
diers waited  the  midshipmen,  who  drank  with 
them  some  iced  coffee  and  water  with  a touch  of 
brandy  — “ mazagrin  ” is  the  name,  and,  as  one 
of  the  boys  said  to  me,  “sure  as  green  apples 
to  double  you  up.” 

Leaving  a present  to  these  old  souls  whose 
bodies  are  only  comforted  by  tobacco  and  such 
drinks  as  regulations  allow,  we  came  away  as 
pleased  as  we  left  them  — and  I,  just  too  pleased 
and  proud  of  my  fine  young  countrj-men. 

From  Portsmouth  (England)  their  commander. 
Captain  Harrison,  wrote  me  that  he  knew  it  would 
gratify  me  to  learn  what  the  Prefect  of  the  Seine 
(the  same  as  our  Mayor)  had  written  him ; and  a 
copy  of  the  letter  was  enclosed. 


AMERICAN  MIDSHIPMEN  IN  PARIS.  327 


It  was  to  the  effect  that  knowing  of  the  intended 
visit  (by  telegram  from  the  authorities  at  Cher- 
bourg) and  fearing  trouble  from  the  presence  of 
so  great  a number  of  such  young  officers  released 
from  the  restraints  of  ship  life,  he  had  detailed  an 
extra  force  of  police  to  watch  them,  and  be  of 
use  to  them,  and  prevent  disagreeable  conse- 
quences. 

That  he  had  the  great  pleasure  to  report  that 
not  one  instance  of  disturbance,  or  infraction  of  law 
had  occurred. 

That  he  made  his  sincere  compliments  to  the 
commanding  officer  on  having  such  a body  of 
young  men  in  his  charge. 

Of  the  fun  these  youngsters  had  by  the  way  — 
of  the  visit  to  Giroux’s,  the  great  toy-warehouse, 
where  a doll  was  to  be  chosen,  in  committee,  for  a 
pet  little  girl ; and  where  their  gayety  and  fresh 
enjoyment  of  the  mechanical  boat  crews  and  Rob- 
inson Crusoe  out  walking  with  his  cat  roused  the 
whole  place ; of  the  embarking  for  Cherbourg 
and  the  guard’s  astonishment  after  locking  each 
carriage  when  it  is  full,  as  is  their  rule,  to  see  the 


328 


SOXrVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


men  he  had  locked  in  pop  through  the  windows 
and  form  in  square  in  front  of  him,  jabbering  and 
gesticulating  and  pretending  anger  at  being  locked 
up  — of  all  this,  and  the  scene  of  laughing  and 
general  fun  in  which  they  finally  w'ent  off  with 
hearty  American  three  cheers  — there  is  not  space 
to  tell.  But  when  I meet  any  of  “ my  squad  ” they 
are  sure  to  recur  to  that  jolly  good  time  in  Paris. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


THE  LITTLE  PRINCESS  THYRA. 


ACH  time  we  have  been  in  Europe  we  have 


^ said,  “ This  time  we  must  go  to  Switzerland,” 
and  each  time  we  did  not  go.  In  ’69  we  were  so 
nearly  gone  that  our  mountain  hats,  stiffened 
with  wire  to  keep  the  brims  from  flapping,  had 
been  sent  home ; the  very  short  woollen  dresses 
were  ready,  and  we  felt  nearly  there,  when  a tel- 
egram came  from  some  friends  in  Denmark  to 
say  that  as  we  intended  to  visit  them  we  had  best 
come  now,  and  see  the  festivities  on  the  marriage 
of  the  Crown  Prince.  And  swift  came  another 
despatch  to  tell  us  that  as  our  coming  had  been 
spoken  of  to  them,  the  King  and  Queen  had  said 
they  would  be  pleased  to  see  us  at  these  fetes. 

“Mountains  will  keep,”  we  said,  “and  royal 
invitations  do  not  come  often.”  So  Switzerland 


329 


33° 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


was  dropped  and  we  went  direct  to  Denmark,  get- 
ting there  on  a gala  day,  and  the  people  were  all 
out  in  holiday  finery ; flags  were  flying  every- 
where, the  blue  and  straw-color  of  Sweden  cross- 
ing the  cherry  and  white  of  Denmark,  for  the 
marriage  was  that  day  taking  place  in  Stockholm 
between  the  Princess  of  Sweden  and  the  Crown 
Prince  of  Hamlet’s  country.  Also  a new  rail- 
road, their  first  connected  line  from  Hamburg  to 
Copenhagen,  was  just  opened,  and  it  seemed  to 
be  the  thing  for  everybody  to  be  taking  short 
rides  on  it,  in  white  gowns  with  ribbons  and 
flowers,  and  men  and  maidens  in  such  open  con- 
tentment that  it  did  one  good  to  see  so  much 
simple  enjoyment.  Excellent  good  food  of  holi- 
day fineness  was  at  all  the  inns.  We  had  to  cross 
various  fiords  of  miles  in  width,  for  Denmark  has 
much  the  shape  of  preserved  ginger  with  very 
deep  indentations,  and  must  have  taxed  the 
patience  of  engineers  in  planning  the  line. 

It  was  a mi.xed  excursion  and  way-train  and 
took  its  time,  but  they  are  not  large  — those 
European  countries.  After  one  of  our  overland 


THE  LITTLE  PRINCESS  THYRA. 


331 


journeys  our  States  seem  small.  But  when  you 
cross  France  and  Belgium  and  Prussia  all  in  a 
long  day  you  feel  ours  is  a large  country.  And 
Denmark  was  only  a breakfast- to- dinner  ride, 
slowly  as  we  made  it.  We  did  not  care  to  go 
faster.  It  was  a sweet  summer  day  and  people 
and  sky  were  smiling ; only  the  cattle  in  the  fields 
were  not  happy  — the  locomotive  puzzled  them  — 
they  threw  up  their  heads  and  dashed  away  as  we 
neared  them.  But  the  deer  came  to  the  edges  of 
beautiful  parks  and  looked ; and  constantly  we 
saw  the  farmhouses  we  know  so  well  through 
Hans  Andersen  and  — the  Stork!  Great  dull 
creature,  pompous  in  his  stupid  dignity,  perched 
on  one  leg  by  the  nest  in  the  old  cart-wheel  which 
the  farmers  do  not  fail  to  place  on  the  roof  by  the 
chimney.  They  think  the  stork  brings  luck  and 
give  him  this  much  of  a fireside  welcome. 

As  we  neared  Copenhagen  we  met  more  and 
gayer  signs  of  rejoicing,  and  fire-works  were  thick 
in  the  air  over  the  city  itself.  We  were  well  in 
the  spirit  of  the  thing  by  this  time,  and  a jumble 
of  Hamlet  and  Hans  Andersen  governed  the  boy 


332 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


of  the  party,  who  protested  he  would  make  his 
entree  properly  in  inky  cloak  and  rapier  — the 
cloak  being  a lady’s  waterproof,  and  an  umbrella 
doing  duty  to  hold  it  sharply  out  behind,  while  he 
spouted  his  lines  — when  the  train  drew  up  and 
the  guard  threw  open  the  door,  calling  “ Kaju- 
BENHAVjN ! ” for  that  is  the  way  the  natives  spell 
“ Co-pen-ha-gen.” 

“ We  shall  find  the  Little  Match-Girl  round  the 
corner,”  said  F.  “ She  will  burn  a boxful  to  add  to 
the  illumination.” 

We  found  our  rooms  ready  at  our  hotel ; our 
friends  glad  to  welcome  us,  and  a long  string  of 
invitations  waiting.  We  had  such  a charming  six 
weeks  in  Hamlet-land  that  I must  skip  to  points 
that  interest  girls  most,  for  this  is  their  chapter. 

You  know  the  daughters  of  that  Danish  royal 
house  are  beautiful  and  womanly  and  charming; 
that  they  were  brought  up  admirably,  in  frugal  and 
wholesome  ways,  for  they  were  not  in  the  direct 
line  of  succession  and,  for  their  station,  were  poor. 
They  have  their  beauty  from  both  father  and 
mother,  and  their  charm  of  sweet  and  gracious 


THE  LITTLE  PRINCESS  THYRA. 


333 


manner  is  both  inheritance  and  atmosphere,  for 
the  Danes  are  extraordinarily  polite.  All  classes 
bow  and  salute  one  another  in  passing,  and  a pop- 
ular man  has  to  go  almost  bareheaded,  so  often  is 
his  hat  off.  The  King  himself  takes  his  hat  quite 
off  in  answer  to  each  salute.  “ I am  getting  too 
old  to  stand  so  much  uncovering,”  said  one  very 
much  liked  public  man  to  us,  “ but  it  is  our  custom 
and  I must  accept  my  neuralgias.” 

Hans  Andersen  enjoyed  it  hugely  — but  he  be- 
longs to  another  number.  I only  want  to  tell  you 
of  the  youngest  of  the  Danish  princesses,  a girl  of 
fifteen  who  was  to  be  let  to  come  and  dance  at  the 
ball  given  to  welcome  her  new  sister. 

I heard  of  her  wild  joy  over  her  ball  dress  and 
her  first  high-heeled  white  satin  boots.  She  had 
not  the  great  beauty  of  the  Princess  of  Wales  or 
the  Empress  of  Russia,  her  eldest  sisters,  but  she 
was  pretty  enough,  and  for  a princess  very  pretty. 

I must  tell  you  of  that  ball  room.  The  palace 
itself  was  centuries  old  and  many  immense  rooms 
preceded  this.  They  were  all  filled  early  ; and 
punctually  the  royal  procession  emerged  from  the 


334 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


private  rooms  and  passed  through  one  after  the 
other  until  the  ball  room  with  its  Throne  was 
reached. 

We  had  been  invited  to  come  at  a very  early 
hour  and  were  shown  into  a large  and  beautiful 
salon  where  on  one  side  were  ranged  the  Ministers 
of  the  Cabinet,  the  Diplomatic  corps,  and  certain 
nobles  of  the  court.  Opposite  them  were  the 
ladies  of  their  families.  Our  places  were  given  us 
and  very  soon  the  folding  doors  were  opened  at  the 
upper  end  of  the  room  and  the  King  entered  lead- 
ing the  Bride ; the  Queen  was  with  her  son  the 
Bridegroom.  Then  came  the  little  princess  Thyra 
(pronounced  Tura)  and  her  brother  Waldemar,  a 
boy  of  twelve  in  knickerbockers.  The  first  lady- 
in-waiting,  Madame  de  Bille,  and  another  with  the 
historic  Swedish  name  of  Oxenstiern,  followed  the 
children. 

Quickly,  but  gracefully  and  verj'  courteously  this 
group  passed  between  our  lines  with  smiles  and 
bows  from  the  royal  personages.  When  the 
Queen’s  quick  eye  caught  sight  of  me  she  paused 
and  said,  “The  Minister  of  War  will  take  you  in,” 


THE  LITTLE  PRINCESS  THVRA, 


335 


and  he  crossed  and,  giving  me  his  arm,  we  followed 
immediately  behind  the  Minister  of  State  who  was 
next  them.  As  the  other  folding  doors  were  opened 
we  looked  into  a continuous  succession  of  splendid 
rooms  all  filled  with  a splendid  company.  The 
whole  Danish  nobility  had  come  up  to  the  Capital 
to  honor  and  welcome  the  Bride,  and  many  Swed- 
ish nobles  had  accompanied  her.  Only  the  broad 
line  of  crimson  carpeted  pathway  was  left  open. 
The  Queen  is  very  graceful.  Almost  at  a dancing 
gait  she  moved  swiftly,  bowing  right  and  left,  until 
the  Throne-room  was  reached  where  we  were 
placed  in  the  order  we  had  entered.  This  put  me 
very  near  the  Royal  family,  who  were  the  only  ones 
seated,  and  gave  me  the  privilege  of  standing  on 
the  raised  dais  so  that  I overlooked  the  whole 
room.  

No  unmarried  ladies  are  privileged  to  stand  near 
the  Queen.  These  were  ranged  facing  the  Throne 
across  the  room,  with  a proper  sprinkling  of  married 
ladies  among  them  to  preserve  the  theory  of  chap- 
erones. 

We  think  ours  is  the  Democratic  country  where 


336 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


there  is  no  privileged  class,  hut  I found  here  in  this 
proud  court  of  the  oldest  royal  House  of  Europe 

— except  the  Austrian  Hapsburgs  — a singular 
privilege  enjoyed  as  a right  by  all  persons  of 
decent  appearance  and  good  conduct. 

Facing  the  Throne  was  a long  gallery  with  a 
frieze  in  white  marble  sculptured  by  Thorwaldsen 

— Jupiter  and  his  court.  Jupiter  and  Juno  and  the 
peacock  face  the  throne  and  then  to  right  and  left 
of  them  come  all  the  rest.  It  is  a magnificent  work 
and  one  of  the  shows  — no  longer,  for  it  was  all 
burned  some  years  ago.  Through  this  gallery 
passed,  very  slowly,  all  the  evening  an  endless 
stream  of  people  in  walking  dress,  bonnets  or  caps, 
and  men  and  women  “ of  all  sorts  and  conditions  ” 
such  as  one  meets  in  any  crowded  street. 

I was  told  this  was  an  old  right  of  Danish  citi- 
zens, who  tenaciously  used  it,  and  in  this  way  took 
part  in,  and  had  their  share  of,  the  State  Balls. 

Five  minutes  was  the  time  allowed  for  the  linger- 
ing walk  along  this  gallery  ; for  that  opposite,  the 
time  was  extended  to  fifteen  minutes ; because  it 
gave  no  view  of  the  'throne. 


THE  LITTLE  PRINCESS  THYRA. 


337 


A third  gallery  across  the  end  was  for  the  musi- 
cians. 

There  must  be  one  word  for  the  Bride.  She  is 
said  to  be  the  tallest  royal  woman  in  Europe,  and 
then,  at  seventeen,  was  already  almost  six  feet ; 
slim  and  girlish  though,  and  in  her  dancing  dress  of 
silver  gauze  over  white  satin  not  looking  too  tall. 
Her  black  eyes  and  hair  and  general  effect  kept 
the  impress  of  her  French  blood,  for  she  was  de- 
scended from  Bernadotte,  the  Marshal  Bonaparte 
put  on  the  Swedish  throne.  You  do  not  get  away 
from  the  traces  of  Bonaparte  anywhere  in  Europe. 

We  must  keep  to  the  Ball  and  the  girl-princess. 
I need,  and  try  to  profit  by,  an  unconscious 
criticism  given  me  by  a very  dear  small  boy  who 
comes  to  me  “for  a story  please.”  '•‘‘Just  a com- 
mon  story”  he  said  to  me  lately.  “Just  about  one 
pony  or  one  dog,  not  any  other  pony  or  dog  — and 
not  any  other  story  with  it.  Just  a common  one.” 

The  rooms  were  lit  altogether  by  wax  lights  in 
Venetian  glass  chandeliers.  The  boldches,  or  glass 
cups  around  the  candles,  were  as  large  as  break- 
fast plates,  but  the  thick  wax  candles  heated  each 


338 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


Other,  and  then  followed  melting  and  spilling  over, 
to  the  spoiling  of  many  a coat  and  gown.  I noticed 
a pool  of  this  slippery  stuff  near  the  centre  of  the 
room  almost  facing  the  throne  and  admired  the 
skill  of  the  dancers  in  avoiding  it  when  a cry  and 
a sudden  hush  of  the  music,  told  that  some  one 
was  down. 

It  was  the  little  princess. 

The  Princess  lost  her  shoe, 

Her  Highness  hopped, 

The  fiddles  stopped, 

They  knew  not  what  to  do.. 

In  an  instant  her  father  had  lifted  the  frightened 
girl.  Her  partner,  a middle-aged  baldish  diplo- 
mat, stunned  by  the  heavy  fall,  was  supported  out 
of  the  room.  The  little  girl  sat  by  her  father  sob- 
bing with  vexation  as  well  as  the  shock,  while  the 
King  with  his  arm  about  her  soothed  her,  and  kept 
the  others  from  exciting  her  by  questions.  Sud- 
denly, and  evidently  in  explanation,  the  princess 
in  the  most  natural  and  girlish  way  twisted  her 
supple  young  foot  up  to  the  King’s  knee  point- 


THE  LITTLE  PRINCESS  THYRA. 


339 


ing  to  the  offending  high  heel  to  which  she  waS 
not  accustomed  and  on  which  she  could  not  regain 
her  balance  when  she  slipped. 

She  was  soon  dancing  again  however,  and  took 
part  in  the  beautiful  supper  which  followed,  where 
the  servants  at  the  Royal  table  were  differently 
dressed  from  all  the  others  ; a tight  fitting  “ sur- 
coat  ” of  cherry  satin  so  thickly  embroidered  with 
silver  that  it  seemed  like  a coat  of  silver  mail,  and 
knee  breeches  of  white  satin  with  the  usual  silk 
stockings  and  buckled  shoes.  On  their  heads  was 
a tall  cap  of  silver  filagree  work  shaped  like  a mitre, 
the  two  parts  of  which  served  to  enclose  a high  and 
wide  bunch  of  field  flowers  and  wild  berries.  You 
can’t  think  how  odd  these  looked  on  some  of  their 
faces — old  serious  faces  with  gray  moustaches. 

When  the  King  intends  to  be  polite  he  sends 
some  dish  from  his  own  table  by  one  of  these  grim 
flower-crowned  old  servitors.  One  came  to  me 
with  a message  from  the  King  asking  that  I would 
keep  the  miniature  flags  that  were  stuck  in  the 
jelly;  a Swedish  and  a Danish  flag  with  silver 
crowns  surmounting  them,  and  on  long  silver  pins. 


34° 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


I put  the  Swedish  flag  in  my  hand  bouquet,  but 
the  Danish  I pinned  among  the  violets  in  my  cor- 
sage bouquet.  This  was  thought  very  nice  by  my 
neighbor,  the  Minister  of  War. 

“ She  brings  agreat  dowry,  the  Swedish  Princess,” 
he  said;  “and  money  is  a great  thing;  but  there 
is  no  reigning  family  with  such  unbroken  descent 
as  ours  of  Denmark  except  that  of  Austria,  and  our 
marriages  are  into  the  greatest  powers.” 

It  is  a “ well-connected  family  ” truly.  One 
daughter  is  married  to  the  Prince  of  Wales,  another 
is  Empress  of  Russia,  and  the  little  Thyra  has  mar- 
ried the  wealthy  son  of  the  blind  King  of  Hanover 
while  the  boy  in  knickerbockers  has  just  married  the 
great-granddaughter  of  Louis  Philippe  and  noble 
Queen  Marie  Amelie.  A bride  with  character  and 
talent  as  well  as  fortune  and  family.  And  the  eldest 
son  has  long  been  King  of  Greece.  And  all  agree 
that  exceptional  family  affection  unite  all  these. 

When  the  King  rises  supper  ends  and  all  must 
rise.  Their  table  was  across  the  head  of  the  room 
and  only  the  Royal  party  sat  at  it,  facing  the  room 
where  two  long  tables,  one  on  either  side,  held  the 


THE  LITTLE  PRINCESS  THYRA. 


341 


State  officers  and  Diplomatic  corps  — the  same 
party  who  had  been  assembled  in  the  private  draw- 
ing-room and  accompanied  the  royalties  into  the 
Throne-room.  Other  supper  rooms  held  the  other 
guests,  and  there  they  had  their  own  time  and  did 
not  have  to  rise  and  return  with  the  King  to  the 
ball-room  for  the  last  dances. 

As  we  stood  in  double  lines  for  their  passing 
out  first  (we  falling  .in  as  for  a Virginia  reel,  each 
couple  to  its  appointed  place)  the  smiling  bows 
were  given  again  to  right  and  left,  and  the  Queen 
again  paused  by  me  holding  out  her  hand  and  giv- 
ing with  it  a Danish  word,  “ Welbekomin^''  which  was 
interpreted  to  me  as  meaning  “ may  it  agree  with 
you,''  and  is  the  national  form  of  making  a guest 
welcome  to  what  they  have  shared  at  their  table. 
A “ folk-word  ” and  old  custom.  Was  it  from  this 
custom  and  expression  Shakespeare  got  his,  “ may 
good  digestion  wait  on  appetite  ” ? 

“You  ask  too  many  questions,”  my  partner  said. 
“ We  do  many  things  simply  because  we  have  al- 
ways done  them.  I cannot  explain  the  flowers 
on  the  old  servants’  heads,  but  only  the  old  servi- 


342 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


tors  of  the  King  wear  them.  And  the  Queen  was 
very  gracious  to  make  so  exceptional  a greeting  of 
hospitality  to  you.  It  is  one  of  our  intimate  and 
friendly  customs  to  give  the  hand  and  say  ‘ Welbe- 
ko7nin'  ” 

The  last  dances  ended  with  a “ galop  ” that  was 
equal  to  racing  speed ; the  music  had  ceased  and 
there  was  only  the  rapid  and  increasingly  more 
rapid  roll  of  drums  beating  to  quarters  ; “ the  ge/i- 
erale.”  The  pace  was  too  great  for  many  — dancer 
after  dancer  fell  off  until  the  floor  was  left  to  the 
Grand  Equerry,  a handsome  little  Spanish-looking 
young  man,  and  his  partner  who  was  French  and 
very  dark.  They  moved  like  the  wind,  so  swift,  so 
steady  and  silent,  when,  stopping  short  in  full  ca- 
reer in  front  of  the  Throne,  they  made  to  each  other 
a deep  bow  and  courtesy,  then  to  the  Royal  party 
a formal  “ jerere/ice”  as  the  courtesy  and  bow  of 
ceremony  is  called. 

Then  the  Royal  party  rose  and  bowed  to  the 
company,  and  wuth  that  the  Ball  of  Welcome  was 
ended. 

Ended  after  seven  hours ! The  day  was  break- 


THE  LITTLE  PRINCESS  THYRA. 


343 


ing  rosy  and  clear  as  we  drove  over  the  drawbridge 
of  the  moat  that  surrounds  the  venerable  palace. 
The  sea  breeze  was  refreshing  though  we  were  not 
conscious  yet  how  tired  we  were  and  the  sun  shone 
full  on  us  before  we  were  comfortably  in  bed,  as 
old  Pepys  says,  “mightily  tired,  but  mightily 
pleased.” 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

A MORNING  VISIT  TO  THE  QUEEN  OF  DENMARK. 

UR  first  day  in  Copenhagen  had  been  spent 


with  our  friends  at  their  lovely  countr}-  seat 
on  the  Baltic  ; they  bringing  us  back  to  town,  to 
inspect  our  Paris  toilettes  and  apportion  them  to 
the  occasions  for  which  we  had  invitations.  There 
is  so  much  etiquette  and  form  in  court-matters 
that  this  was  a necessary  precaution. 

\^'e  had  separated,  and  were  making  ready  for 
a resting  night,  when  a note  came  from  our  minis- 
ter’s wife  — we  had  called  in  the  morning  — enclos- 
ing one  to  her  from  the  Grande Maitresse — the  chief 
lady-in-waiting  on  the  Queen,  to  say  her  Majesty 
was  coming  into  town  the  next  morning  and  would 
be  pleased  to  see  the  American  ladies,  informally, 
at  noon,  at  the  Winter  Palace.  Madame  de  B. 
added  : 


344 


LOUISA,  QUEEN  OF  DENMARK. 


VISIT  TO  THE  QUEEN  OF  DENMARK.  345 


“The  Queen  will  receive  these  ladies  in  their 
walking  dress  (toilette  de promenade')." 

Mrs.  Y in  her  note  said,  “ But  you  must  wear 

white  bonnet  and  gloves.” 

Nobody  has  white  gloves  in  modern  days,  and 
for  me  a white  bonnet  was  impossible,  for  it  would 
have  spoiled  the  effect  of  my  white  hair.  What  to 
do  ? My  Danish  friend,  in  an  early  morning  inter- 
view, assured  me  the  Queen  was  too  intelligent 
not  to  accept  an  explanation  through  Madame  de 

B and  liked  pretty  things  too  well  not  to  prefer 

seeing  our  Felix  hats  to  any  solid  Copenhagen 
millinery.  But  when  we  met  before  noon  at  the 

Winter  Palace  Mrs.  Y was  uncomfortable  about 

us. 

Madame  de  B listened  to  my  explanation, 

smiled  approvingly  on  my  black  lace  and  jet,  and 
the  straw-colored  toilette  of  my  daughter,  and  went 
into  the  adjoining  room  returning  with  the  Queen’s 
invitation  that  we  two  should  come  to  her  in  the 
library. 

We  had  been  properly  coached  — one  does  not 
make  “ informal  morning  calls  ” on  Queens  often 


346 


SOUVENIRS  OF  .MY  TIME. 


enough  to  feel  quite  sure  of  the  etiquette.  “You 
will  find  the  Queen  standing.  She  may  or  may  not 
ask  you  to  be  seated.  If  she  does  she  will  end 
the  visit  by  rising  in  ten  minutes  or  so.” 

The  Queen  did  ask  us  to  be  seated  — ver/  near 
her  too,  for,  alas,  she  is  somewhat  deaf  (as  is  the 
beautiful  Princess  of  Wales).  And  when  she  rose 
and  said  she  would  see  us  again  at  the  Ball  it  was 
not  ten  minutes,  but  a good  half-hour  we  had  been 
with  her.  The  explanation  had  directed  her  at- 
tention to  our  hats,  which  she  approved  to  the  e.x- 

tent  of  directing  Madame  de  B to  ask  who  cur 

Paris  faurnisseuys  were.  So  that  nice  point  was 
safely  passed. 

For  the  rest  one  lady  is  the  same  as  another. 
With  the  advantage,  that  people  of  fi.xed  accus- 
tomed position  can  be  and  usually  are  of  quiet, 
simple  manner,  because  there  can  be  no  question 
of  their  social  value  and  they  do  not  need  to  as- 
sert themselves  in  any  way.  Least  of  all  in  the 
common  way  of  expensive  dress. 

The  Queen  wore  a quiet  black  silk,  short  and 
without  “ trimming.”  Pier  figure  as  well  as  her 


VISIT  TO  THE  QUEEN  OF  DENMARK.  347 


face  was  still  very  youthful,  and  it  is  her  beauty 
which  has  come  to  her  daughters.  Direct,  gentle 
manners,  and  a quick  easy  way  of  talking  made 
the  half-hour  short.  On  the  large  library  table 
by  which  we  sat  was  a bust  of  the  Prince  of  Wales 
to  which  she  called  our  attention,  as  a present  just 
received  from  “my  son.”  All  the  royal  family, 
every  one  in  society  almost,  and  the  people  gen- 
erally, speak  English.  English  is  now  the  diplo- 
matic language  as  it  it  fast  becoming  also  the 
necessary  business  language.  Until  in  Cromwell's 
time  the  diplomatic  intercourse  of  nations  was  in 
Latin  — you  remember  Milton  was  Cromwell’s 
secretary.  Charles  ii.  introduced  the  French  lan- 
guage, which  is  now  displaced  almost  completely 
by  English. 

After  the  Ball  of  Welcome,  a breakfast  was  given 
by  the  Minister  of  State,  Count  Fries.  Friesland, 
Jutland,  and  another  county,  of  which  I forget  the 
name,  were  his  property;  and  in  these  three  coun- 
ties were  some  thirty  towns  and  villages,  also  his. 
Plere  again  was  the  same  simplicity  of  attentive 
good  manners,  and  dress.  Although  all  Royalty 


348 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME, 


and  all  the  highest  Danish  nobility  were  present, 
the  Countess  Fries  and  a daughter,  the  Countess 
Agnes,  were  dressed  well  but  in  proper  daytime 
dress  and  without  jewels.  Diamonds  by  daylight, 
and  evening  dresses  before  night,  unless  for  great 
State  ceremonial,  are  not  worn  by  women  who  are 
too  used  to  them  to  wear  them  out  of  place.  At 
the  Ball  I had  noticed  all  wore  their  hair  in  what 
was  evidently  their  habitual  way.  Just  then  it  was 
a fashion  to  put  all  the  hair  in  one  thick  plait 
which  drooped  from  the  back  of  the  head  low  on  the 
neck  and  was  thence  carried  to  the  top  of  the  head 
in  a straight  line  ; a hot  and  tickling  way  in  a 
summer  night  ball-room.  One  lady  at  the  Ball  had 
her  hair  done  in  this  way.  She  was  very  nice- 
looking  every  way,  with  her  pale  blue  dress  and 
collar  of  diamonds.  The  King,  whom  I had  not 
yet  met,  took  this  lady  for  me.  Standing  near  the 
throne,  I heard  him  say  to  the  Minister  of  War, 
“ Faites  moi  riionneur  de  me  presenter  a J/adame  Fre- 
mont,” moving  as  he  spoke  toward  this  lady.  He 

told  General  de  R “ I made  the  mistake  because 

the  American  ladies  follow  the  fashions  de  si  pres 


VISIT  TO  THE  QUEEN  OF  DENMARK.  349 


(so  very  quickly)  that  I thought  that  must  be  the 
American  lady  with  her  hair  dressed  in  the  last 
mode.”  She  was  English,  however,  and  I think  it 
was  a point  in  our  country’s  favor  that  though 
American  I wore  mine,  as  did  the  Danish  ladies, 
in  my  usual  way. 

But  the  white  bonnet  was  obligatory  for  the 
Bridal  Breakfast.  Every  woman,  old  or  young, 
had  on  an  uncompromising  white  hat.  With  all 
my  Paris  finery  mine  was  a case  of  “ nothing  to 
wear.”  A look  round  the  Copenhagen  places  sat- 
isfied me  that  their  substantial  respectable  bonnets 
would  crush  my  hair  and  spoil  the  effect  of  my 
dress.  So  I made  my  own  bonnet.  Sitting  before 
the  glass,  I built  it  on  my  head  with  many  hair- 
pins. A coronet  wreath  of  pale  violets  placed  be- 
comingly on  the  hair  made  the  “foundation.” 
Some  Mechlin  lace  gathered  into  a large  loose 
rosette  fell  softly  over  the  upper  part  of  the  flow- 
ers, in  front  and  over  the  hair  behind.  More  vio- 
lets and  lace  form  a central  knot  for  a long  barbe 
of  the  same  lace  which  made  a loose  fluffy  tie 
under  the  chin  — it  was  white,  but  not  heavy,  and 


35° 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


SO  artistic  and  becoming  that  several  ladies  said  to 
me,  “ Only  Paris  could  produce  such  bonnets.” 

At  this  beautiful  breakfast  there  were  long  suites 
of  both  drawing-rooms  and  breakfast-rooms  open  ; 
all  newly  decorated  for  this  occasion.  In  the  rocm 
where  the  royal  party  had  breakfast  we  were  but 
twenty-four  at  table,  myself  the  only  unofficial  per- 
son. Except  the  King  and  the  Prince-bridegroom 
and  Count  Fries,  all  were  ladies.  The  Countess 
Fries  several  times  left  her  seat,  made  the  tour  of 
the  table  speaking  a little  with  different  guests, 
saying  to  me  in  English  a nice  hospitable  hope 
that  I was  finding  myself  pleased  and  altogether 
carrying  out  the  impression  of  good  will  as  well  as 
good  manners  which  is  common  to  all  classes  in 
Denmark. 

We  spent  the  day  at  a country-seat  about  an 
hour  out  of  town  where  we  found  in  perfection  this 
charming  combination  of  simplicity  and  luxury. 
The  house  was  old  and  built  around  three  sides 
of  a courtyard  as  large  as  a public  square.  A de- 
lightfully irregular  house  of  uneven  growth  ; some 
rooms  moderately  large  and  opening  together, 


VISIT  TO  THE  QUEEN  OF  DENMARK.  351 


while  Others  were  really  great  halls,  sorre  opening 
out  by  stone  balconies  and  steps  to  the  rich  vel- 
vety green  of  old  lawns  running  down  to  the  sandy 
beach  of  the  blue  Baltic.  Trees  of  age  and  beauty 
that  it  made  one  glad  to  see  were  everywhere 
about  this  domain,  while  back  of  it  lay  a famous 
beech-wood  and  deer  park.  This  we  visited  in  a 
little  basket  wagon,  driving  among  the  tame  deer. 
The  beeches  were  of  immense  size  and  very  old. 
Their  strange  trunks  were  even  more  weird  than 
any  Dore  has  drawn  and  their  whitish  bark  made 
them  phantom-like  in  the  green  dusk  of  the  forest. 
This  wood  was  only  a part  of  the  royal  deer-forest. 

Mr.  S. had  recently  bought  it  from  the  crown, 

giving  eighty  thousand  pounds  sterling  for  this  ad- 
dition to  his  old  estate  which  had  a long,  long 
frontage  on  the  Baltic.  For  a fishing  village  on 
his  estate  he  had  built  a fine  breakwater.  Our 
Danish  friends  were  intimate  here  and  told  us  of 
the  good  providence  the  whole  family  were  to 
their  tenants  and  people.  At  dinner  the  fish  was 
from  their  own  waters,  the  venison  and  birds  from 
their  own  forests,  the  beautiful  peaches  and  grapes 


352 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


from  their  own  glass-houses,  and  the  flowers  were 
from  their  fields  as  well  as  those  cultivated. 
To  us  accustomed  only  to  the  unbroken  green  of 
our  wheat  fields  (corn  as  it  is  called  in  England 
and  Europe),  the  gay  beauty  of  north  European 
corn-flowers  in  a wheatfield  is  something  fascina- 
ting. I had  said  something  of  this  pleasure  to 
the  eye  as  we  had  travelled  northward.  In  one 
room  where  a pale  blue  glazed  chintz  covered  the 
walls  as  well  as  the  furniture,  and  the  light  was 
softened  by  abundant  white  muslin  curtains,  a 
large  window  was  filled  by  a tall  basket-stand  with 
its  tiers  of  trays  filled  entirely  by  blue  corn  flowers, 
relieved  by  borders  of  the  loveliest  white  roses ; 
and  in  the  next  room,  where  everything  was  pale 
pink,  the  wild  sweetbrier  was  the  only  flower. 
Great  vases  of  fine  china  and  majolica  had  the 
poppy  and  ripe  wheat  with  the  blue  and  yellow 
corn  flowers  everywhere.  My  friends  told  me  the 
sisters,  three  girls  of  remarkable  beauty,  had  them- 
selves arranged  the  flowers  to  please  me.  Their 
father  showed  me  in  the  library  a large  beautiful 
painting  of  the  place  where  Jorgen  was  shipwrecked 


VISIT  TO  THE  QUEEN  OF  DENMARK.  353 


and  his  sad  young  life  ended  in  the  sands  of  Jut- 
land. Hans  Andersen  is  responsible  for  making 
us  all  sorry  for  the  poor  Spanish  boy  ; it  was  such 
a very  desolate  stretch  of  dull  wave-ribbed  sand 
with  the  low  wash  of  the  cold  ocean  against  it  that 
one  felt  the  tragedy  of  the  lost  boy.  It  was  good 
to  escape  back  to  the  lovely  flowers  and  lovelier 
girls. 

We  had  another  beautiful  day  at  the  castle  at 
Elsinore,  where  Hamlet  saw  his  father’s  ghost  on 
the  ramparts;  and  a visit  to  fortified  islands  which 
defend  the  harbor.  Going  out  to  them  in  a steam- 
launch  and  doing  credit  to  our  country  by  not  be- 
ing sickened  by  the  rough  short  waves  which  made 
some  of  the  dignified  officials  blue  and  gray  in  the 
face  and  miserable.  Nelson  was  always  seasick. 
What  a brave  man  he  was  to  become  such  a naval 
hero  in  spite  of  his  quailing  stomach.  We  had  the 
old  story  of  his  bombardment  of  Copenhagen  told 
over  here,  on  the  spot,  and  Campbell’s  poem,  “ The 
Battle  of  the  Baltic,”  took  new  beauty  and  meaning 
to  me.  My  old  French  friend,  the  Count  de  la 
Garde,  had  been  present  and  had  part  in  the  de* 


354 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


fence  of  the  city  that  day,  though  only  a lad  of 
sixteen. 

To  be  in  Copenhagen  and  not  speak  of  Thor- 
waldsen  is  almost  to  omit  Hamlet,  but  I must. 

Genius  is  honored  in  Denmark.  It  has  its  true 
place  as  a rare  and  divine  gift,  and  learning  is 
fostered  and  brings  honors.  Hans  Andersen  was, 
with  all  his  petty  vanities  and  childish  self-impor- 
tance, valued  for  his  talent  and  was  not  only  a 
popular  favorite  but  a welcomed  frequent  guest  of 
royalty.  The  university  there  is  so  stately  and 
beautiful  and  has  attached  such  wealth  of  libraries, 
museums,  etc.  that  it  was  a pleasure  to  learn  that 
the  great  income  which  enabled  all  this  to  be  done 
had  been  gained  by  the  students  themselves. 
Some  centuries  before,  when  the  plague  was  dev- 
astating the-  city,  panic  followed,  so  that  the 
dead  lay  unburied.  Authority  could  not  prevail 
with  any  of  the  regular  people,  and  the  students 
volunteered ; and  they  made  the  check  in  the 
spread  of  the  disease  and  terror  it  caused.  For 
this  they  were  granted  a proportion  of  all  burial 
fees  in  perpetuity,  and  that  supply  never  fails. 


VISIT  TO  THE  QUEEM  OF  DENMARK.  355 


Denmark  was  the  last  European  country  to 
embrace  Christianity,  and  in  its  fixed  uneventful 
national  life  old  usages  and  traditions  have  lingered, 
so  that  among  the  peasantry  and  farming  folk  their 
silver  jewelry  and  pottery,  and  many  small  customs 
retain  a mythological  character.  It  was  an  alto- 
gether quaint,  characteristic,  special  visit  we  had 
there;  delightfully  in  contrast  to  the  modern  life 
even  of  the  “ Old  World  ” cities,  and  fascinating 
to  us  as  Americans  where  the  unwritten  law  is  to 
destroy  forests  and  tear  down  the  few  edifices  hav- 
ing histories  and  marks  of  time. 

IIV  know  what  happens  if  you  ask  for  some- 
thing to  eat  on  an  excursion  to  any  of  our  out-of- 
the-way  little  places.  But  driving  far  one  day  we 
rested  before  returning  where  a very  small  fishing 
village  lay  between  a forest  and  the  Baltic ; very 
small  weather-beaten  huts  of  cottages,  boats,  fish- 
ing nets,  etc.  — all  plain  and  poor.  We  stopped  at 
the  largest  house  — two  rooms  with  sanded  floors 
and  a few  wooden  benches  and  tables  in  one,  and 
cooking  arrangements  in  the  other,  showed  it  to 
be  the  “ Public.” 


356 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


Here  they  knew  only  Danish.  All  was  clean, 
but  a “ fish-like  ” atmosphere  pervaded  everything. 
We  were  hungry,  and  tried  by  pantomime  to  get 
something,  but  understood  from  their  deprecating 
gestures  and  the  blushes  of  a pink  and  white  young 
girl  who  shook  her  yellow  head  as  she  looked  us 
over  admiringly  that  they  had  nothing  good  enough. 
P'.’s  fourteen-year-old  appetite  was  not  to  be 
soothed  by  such  an  idea  ; he  pantomimed  vigorously, 
advancing  into  the  kitchen  and  triumphantly  seized 
an  egg,  broke  it  into  a plate  and  by  gestures  indi- 
cated the  beating  of  eggs,  then  pointing  to  the  fire 
was  understood,  and  mother  and  daughter,  laugh- 
ing, followed  his  lead  as  he  searched  the  shelves 
and  a closet  and  secured  some  raspberr}-  jam  ; he 
found  in  the  bit  of  garden  some  parsley,  and  soon 
we  had  a really  good  omelette,  with  clean  water  to 
drink,  and  hard  rye  bread.  The  good  humor,  the 
good,  excellent  cooking,  the  modest  charge  — 
about  twenty  cents  — all  were  exceptional  in  our 
much-travelled  experience,  and  the  girl’s  shrill 
laugh  of  delight  at  the  little  present  of  money  we 
made  her  urns  equally  exceptional. 


VISIT  TO  THE  QUEEN  OF  DENMARK.  357 


The  upper  classes  are  very  like  the  English 
country  gentry  in  wholesome  truthful  ways  of  liv- 
ing, without  pretense  or  striving,  but  having  an 
open  life  ; first  for  home  and  family,  and  after,  if 
it  is  quite  prudent  and  convenient,  to  broaden  it. 
But  with  these,  as  with  the  plainer  people,  there 
seemed  to  be  an  atmosphere  of  not  only  content, 
but  light-heartedness  very  foreign  to  the  English 
and  even  to  our  American  people  ; and  very  re- 
freshing to  be  in  contact  with. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


A MIDSUMMER  NIGHT  WITH  SHAKESPEARE. 


OU  shall  hear  no  English  or  French  spoken, 


-Ih  you  ^vill  not  see  a railway  or  a telegraph- 
post,  and  unless  you  order  your  mail  to  follow,  you 
can  have  an  unbroken  atmosphere  of  repose  from 
all  usual  ideas.” 

That  was  a tempting  idea!  .And  were  we 
not  willing  and  glad  to  be  governed  for  our  own 
good  and  make  no  rash  scrutiny  into  the  details 
of  this  promised  rest  but  take  it  gratefully  as  it 
came.  That  is,  we  elders.  Younger  .America  went 
deep  into  the  planning  and  enjoyed  preparing  the 
surprises  and  pleasures  for  the  docile  parents. 
We  had  asked  for  the  daughter  of  our  Danish 
friends  to  accompany  us  back  to  Paris  where  her 
father  was  to  be  later  ; we  making  a “ long  way 
round  ’ by  Dresden,  Prague,  Munich,  the  Aus- 


358 


A MIDSUMMER  NIGHT  WITH  SHAKESPEARE.  359 


trian-Tyrol  and  Vienna,  and  from  there  the 
straight  line  to  Paris.  A.  de  R.  had  made  this  plan 
from  her  experience  of  travel  with  her  father; 
she  further  secured  the  “ foreign  ” and  resting 
atmosphere  by  arranging  that  our  stopping-places 
should  be  exclusively  at  hotels  apart  from  the  line 
of  travel ; no  Eisenban  with  the  rush  of  railways 
in  their  service,  and  tourist  ideas  of  food,  but 
leisurely  characteristic  old-world  hotels. 

Old  Liibeck  near  Hamburg  whose  “ flourishing 
commerce  was  destroyed  by  the  discovery  of 
America  ” began  the  programme  of  “ the  past.” 
Dresden  was  painfully  modern  in  all  but  the  pict- 
ures ; but  when  we  saw  Prague  we  felt  we  touched 
the  Middle  Ages.  Everything  there  tells  of  the 
power  of  the  privileged  few  and  the  extraordinary 
submission  of  the  people.  To  the  favored  class 
belonged  palaces  covering  squares  ; that  of  the 
King,  though  rarely  lived  in,  covers  a hill-face. 
Adjoining  some  of  the  finest  is  that  monument 
of  ignorant  bigotry,  the  “Jews’  Quarter.”  There 
the  houses  were  immensely  tall,  as  ground  was 
denied  them,  and  the  streets  so  narrow  that  as  we 


360 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


drove  through  in  an  open  carriage  our  outstretched 
arms  could  almost  have  touched  either  side,  and 
the  sunny  day  seemed  to  have  darkened,-  so  shut  in 
were  they  from  space  and  light. 

The  Synagogue,  built  partly  under  ground  '•‘‘for 
better  defence”  with  its  steep  roof  so  near  the 
ground  that  it  was  like  a great  ice-house  (and  it 
was  almost  as  chill  and  damp),  was  a speaking 
comment  on  its  day.  This  is  one  of  the  oldest 
Hebrew  places  of  worship  in  Europe  and  retains 
in  its  inner  structure  and  the  tombstones  closing 
m around  it  the  Oriental  character. 

Emerging  into  free  light  we  came  to  a Bishop’s 
palace  w'here  there  was  an  oriel  window  of  rich 
old  stained-glass  of  such  size  and  beauty  that  the 
carriage  was  stopped  and  Anna’s  sketching-traps 
taken  out  and  Frank  adjusted  the  folding-stool, 
little  easel-table  and  color-box  and  remained  with 
her  while  we  drove  on  to  the  bridge  of  St.  John  of 
Nippermunk.  We  have  the  “ biggest  rivers  ” but 
in  the  Old  World  they  have  the  “ biggest  bridges  ; ” 
not  in  height  and  for  railway  traffic,  but  in  adorn- 
ment, and  that  growth  of  legend  and  story  which 


A MIDSUMMER  NIGHT  WITH  SHAKESPEARE.  361 

time  alone  gives,  and  running  water  favors.  A 
legend  seems  to  need  a substantial  basis  when  it 
is  on  land,  but  there  is  something  that  invites 
imagination  and  vague  forms  in  the  flowing  stream 
and  its  mists.  It  is  not  much  of  a river  as  Ameri- 
can rivers  go,  but  this  special  bridge  alone  is  an 
epitome  of  history,  of  art  and  of  superstition,  and 
now  of  the  dead-and-gone  past  when  even  thought 
was  not  free. 

St.  John  had  received  the  confession  of  the 
Queen  — a Queen  of  “ once  upon  a time  ” — whose 
royal  husband  wished  to  know  what  she  had  told 
her  confessor.  This  was  in  early  Christian  days. 
The  priest  would  not  of  course  tell.  Nor  would 
the  King  recognize  any  power  that  could  oppose 
him,  of  the  Church  or  of  the  world.  And  as 
Father  John,  for  he  was  only  a simple  priest  then, 
refused,  though  imprisoned  and  tortured,  he  was 
put  to  death  and  his  body  thrown  into  the  river 
(in  the  old  unsanitary  manner).  Behold  the  mir- 
acle ! Not  only  did  the  dead  man  not  sink  but, 
as  he  floated  in  an  upright  position,  there  settled 
about  his  head  five  points  of  light  forming  a halo. 


362 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


By  this  the  wicked  King  knew  he  was  fighting 
the  powers  of  the  unseen  world  and  that  John  had 
become  a Saint  because  he  was  a martyr  to  duty. 
And  as  such  he  is  held  to  this  day.  There  are 
twelve  life-size  groups  in  marble  on  this  beautiful 
bridge,  the  places  of  honor  in  the  centre  being 
reserved  on  one  side  for  the  Holy  Mother  with 
the  dead  Christ  on  her  knees — tlie  favorite  ever- 
recurring  group  in  South  Europe  of  Mother  and 
Son  — and,  opposite,  St.  John  with  his  halo  of 
stars.  Each  of  these  stood  on  altar-like  rising 
steps  and  laad,  whenever  we  passed  them,  kneel- 
ing people  before  them.  They  may  or  may  not 
have  believed  that  whoever  said  certain  prayers  to 
St.  John  could  not  be  drowned,  but  we,  as  well  as 
those  kneeling  there,  were  heartily  thankful  for 
the  reminder  of  duty  steadfastly  adhered  to,  even 
unto  death ; and  there  is  no  creed  to  the  Mother- 
heart  that  aches  over  its  dead. 

From  the  bridge  rises  steeply  the  hill  on  which 
the  old  palace  stands,  or  rather  which  it  covers, 
with  outer  side  walls  like  stony  precipices.  From 
above,  on  one  occasion  when  die  council  disagreed 


A MIDSUMMER  NIGHT  WITH  SHAKESPEARE,  363 

with  the  King,  he  called  in  his  guard  and  had  the 
disagreement  ended  by  dropping  the  Councillors  out 
of  the  windows.  The  windows  are  shown  to  you 
and,  as  your  eye  measures  the  distance  of  that  drop, 
you  understand  that  like  Abner  Dean  of  Angel’s 
the  subsequent  proceedings  interested  them  no 
more. 

But  if  the  one  will  was  powerful  for  evil  it  could 
also  act  quickly  for  good.  Opposite,  the  Raths- 
chin  a high  solid  wall  of  masonry  starts  from  the 
river  and  climbs  up  and  over  the  hill  — a strange 
wall  to  see  in  a city  and  with  a strange  name  — 
the  “ Hunger-Wall.”  In  a time  of  famine  and 
when  there  was  nothing  for  the  people  to  do,  the 
King  of  that  day  (“  once  upon  a time  ” ) had  this 
wall  built  and  the  people  working  on  it  were  paid 
well,  and  so,  earning  their  food,  were  in  better  state 
every  way  than  if  food  had  been  doled  out  to 
them  ; which  was  not  bad  political  economy. 

The  southern  and  oriental  love  of  beauty,  of  color 
and  graceful  form,  makes  Prague  charming.  In 
place  of  mere  cobble  stones  the  chief  streets  are 
laid  in  a rough  mosaic  by  placing  the  stones  in  large 


364  SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 

pattern  and  outlining  the  grays  and  tans  with  red 
stones.  And  the  raised  sidewalks  are  of  a coarse 
gravel  done  in  the  same  way  but  of  more  elaborate 
pattern  and  more  varied  coloring.  The  white  uni- 
forms of  Austrian  officers  and  many  local  and 
characteristic  costumes  made  agreeable  figures  in 
this  rococo  sort  of  setting.  We  had  found  this 
love  of  beauty  marking  everything  in  our  hotel. 
The  Austrian  Parliament  meets  in  Prague  and  this 
hotel  was  much  in  favor  with  the  nobles  attending 
it,  so  we  found  as  Anna  had  promised  coicleur 
locale  in  everjThing.  The  house  was  delightfully 
old  and  the  rooms  were  dignified  by  their  size  and 
the  exquisite  shining  inlaid  floors  and  rich  dark 
wood-work  of  doors  and  panelled  walls  and  ceil- 
ings — while,  as  it  is  the  capital  of  Bohemia,  we 
had  enough  genuine  Bohemian  glass  in  chan- 
deliers and  mirror  frames  and  table  service  to 
gladden  even  the  insatiate  eye  of  one  who  appre- 
ciated the  effects  of  light  and  color  in  the  trans- 
parent glass.  And  in  all  details  the  harmony  was 
complete.  Our  bedrooms,  opening  en  suite  from 
the  spacious  drawing-room  with  its  wood  fire  re- 


A MIDSUMMER  NIGHT  WITH  SHAKESPEARE.  365 

fleeted  in  the  polished  woods  and  glimmering 
glass,  were  as  beautiful  as  rich  fittings  and  good 
taste  could  make  them.  Frescoed  ceilings  had 
their  chief  colors  repeated  in  rich  rugs  and  the 
satin  furniture  and  bedspreads  ; while  the  table, 
which  was  served  in  the  drawing-room,  was  for  all 
its  appointments  of  flowers,  fine  silver  and  china 
and  damask,  with  the  silver  branched  candlesticks 
having  shaded  wax  lights,  like  a lovely  dinner  party. 
Careful  and  delicate  cookery  is  the  rule  even  in 
wayside  inns  in  Austria,  so  that  here  we  had  it  in 
perfection. 

We  did  not  travel  by  night.  Our  programme 
was  arranged  for  an  easy  day  between  early  coffee 
and  a late  dinner.  There  is  always  the  long  halt 
and  abundant  time  for  the  mid-day  breakfast  at  the 
regular  stopping-places  where  well-set  tables  and 
good  food  make  this  truly  a “ refreshment.” 

Getting  to  Prague  for  dinner  we  had  intended  giv- 
ing it  one  day,  then  going  to  Munich  for  one  day, 
and  from  there  into  the  mountains  making  Salzburg 
our  headquarters  for  excursions.  There  was  not 
time  for  everything,  so  the  mountains  were  made 


366 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


the  chief  object  as  the  General  had  to  be  in  Paris 
by  a fixed  time,  leaving  us  to  go  to  Vienna  and 
make  the  travel  by  Frankfort  more  at  our  leisure, 
and  join  him  at  Paris. 

But  one  day  was  not  enough  of  the  beautiful 
city.  By  making  a very  early  start  and  going 
straight  to  Salzburg,  only  stopping  to  change 
trains  and  get  dinner  in  Munich,  we  could  give 
two  days  to  Prague.  It  was  against  the  theories 
of  our  chief  traveller  not  to  make  camp  while  it 
was  still  light  — “ all  travelling  accidents  happen 
in  the  dark  ” — but  when  I saw  the  placards,  an- 
nouncing Gounod’s  “Romeo  and  Juliet”  for  the 
next  night,  then  no  locomotive  could  have  hauled 
us  from  that  spot.  Munich  was  a modernized  sort 
of  a place  anyhow  — we  had  seen  sculptures  and 
pictures  enough  in  Copenhagen  and  Dresden  to 
confuse  us,  and  now  it  was  the  turn  for  music,  and 
this  open-air  page  of  history,  unspoiled  by  “ mod- 
ern improvements.” 

So  we  again  had  a long  open-air  day  and  dined 
with  good  appetite  in  the  beautiful  drawing-room 
and  then  drove  by  the  river  road  out  of  town  to  the 


A MIDSUMMER  NIGHT  WITH  SHAKESPEARE.  367 

suburb  where  was  the  summer  theatre.  A great 
building  where  the  stage  was  under  cover  but 
the  house  was  open  to  the  sky,  and  the  moon  and 
stars  looked  down  upon  Juliet  as  she  leaned 
from  her  balcony.  The  house  was  in  dim  light 
and  the  footlights  well  masked.  The  Juliet  was 
a lovely,  tall  girl  with  the  midnight  dusk  of  hair 
and  eyes  of  her  country  — her  long  white  satin 
gown  was  not  a Worth  costume  but  a clinging 
soft-falling,  gentle-looking  gown  such  as  the  true 
Juliet  might  have  worn.  And  Romeo  was  young 
and  looked  and  moved  the  daring  lover.  Fancy 
Gounod’s  music  set  to  such  realities  of  youth  and 
beauty  and  possible  passion,  with  the  summer 
moon  shining  on  the  lovers  — we  the  audience 
only  a dusky  bank  of  cloud  to  them. 

Then  the  tumult  of  the  street  fight  was  no  sham 
struggle  with  absurdly  wrong  postures  and  sword 
exercises. 

But  from  narrow  streets  by  old  garden  walls  and 
massive  palaces  hurried  forth  armed  men  — light, 
graceful  swordsmen,  and  the  two  bodies  of  retain- 
ers met  in  conflict  that  was  a delight  to  an  audi- 


368 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


ence  to  whom  the  sword  is  as  familiar  a weapon 
as  the  gun  is  with  us. 

To  make  a play  a success  in  New  York  it  is 
almost  enough  to  insert  some  sort  of  drill  exer- 
cise ; you  will  see  breathless  attention  follow  every 
move  and  no  good  point  fails  to  bring  out  compre- 
hending applause.  In  Prague  the  sword  was  as 
well  understood.  I had  had  some  (not  enough) 
twinges  of  conscience  at  upsetting  Mr.  Fremont’s 
plans  of  early  camps,  and  hurrying  into  the  Tyrol, 
but  he  too  was  charmed  by  the  music  and  the 
truthful,  fit  setting  of  the  immortal  tale  of  youth  — 
and  when  this  perfect  fencing  scene  began  and 
progressed  to  a grand  assaut  tTarntes,  then  I knew 
would  for  no  reason  have  missed  so  congenial  an 
exhibition.  From  all  over  the  house  came  cries  of 
approval  and  delight  — none  more  enthusiastic  than 
from  Mr.  Fremont  and  my  son. 

It  was  an  extraordinary  completeness  of  enjoy- 
ment throughout.  The  drive  back  by  the  river 
with  the  moonlight  beautifying  all  things  was  only 
one  more  idealized  pleasure. 

“ We  must  be  at  the  train  and  in  place  at  six ! ” 


A MIDSUMMER  NIGHT  WITH  SHAKESPEARE.  369 

and  it  was  then  past  twelve.  We  hurried  to  our 
satin  quilts  but  the  envious  morn  came  all  too 
soon  and  we  were  a silent  and  sleepy  party  over 
the  five  o’clock  coffee  ; but  it  was  a delight  to  have 
had  that  night,  for  then  and  for  always. 

This  was  our  one  exception  to  the  wholesome 
plan  of  only  daylight  travel,  but  to  give  more  time 
to  the  Tyrol  we  were  willing,  for  once,  to  go  on  into 
the  night.  Those  puzzling  “ Bradshaws  ” I never 
attempted  to  understand  but  the  younger  ones  be- 
lieved in  them. 

It  is  a point  of  honor  I think  with  railway  offici- 
als not  to  know  about  the  next  place  and  you  are 
thrown  on  the  printed  information  ; so  the  girls 
made  out  that  by  four  o’clock  we  would  be  at 
Munich  with  a two,  or  four-hour  rest  there,  and 
then  two  hours  to  Salzburg.  A telegram  to  the 
hotel  there  insured  our  finding  supper  and  all 
things  ready  including  the  carriage  and  oberkcU- 
ner  ” waiting  to  meet  us  at  the  station.  As  we 
were  to  make  the  two,  or  four-hour  stop  in  Munich 
we  decided  to  dine  there  at  a usual  hour  and  made 
only  a very  light  breakfast. 


370 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


That  “ Bradshaw  ” was  a deceiver.  It  was  nearly 
eight  when  Munich  was  reached.  The  bright  hand- 
some railway  station  was  most  welcome  and  the  sight 
and  odor  of  food  was  grateful  to  an  all-day  appetite. 
“ We  will  let  all  these  people  get  off  and  then  have 
our  dinner  in  quiet,”  said  Anna. 

We  ordered  it  with  care,  including  “ by  request  ” 
roasted  pheasant  and  salad,  and  the  menkind 
stepped  out  “ to  look  around,”  while  we  gave  way 
to  the  comfort  of  stretching  our  cramped  limbs  on 
sofas  and  comparing  our  rest  and  the  leisurely  re- 
freshing dinner  we  were  to  have  with  the  hurry  of 
the  passengers  who  were  making  off  to  a starting 
train. 

Just  then  Anna  caught  some  words  that  made 
her  go  swiftly  to  the  Bureau  d' information,  and 
our  rest  was  over.  That  treacherous  “ Bradshaw  ” 
had  misled  us  again.  There  was  not  four,  not  two, 
not  any  hour  at  all  of  waiting.  The  train  that  was 
starting  was  ours.  Myself,  the  two  girls  and  our 
maid  were  there  — but  the  General  and  Frank.? 
In  came  an  authoritative  bustling  official : “ Salz~ 
bourg,  Madame i D^pbchez  vous  done."  One  girl 


A MIDSUMMER  NIGHT  WITH  SHAKESPEARE.  37 1 


had  gone  outside  on  a scout  for  the  missing  men, 
when  the  other  spied  their  laughing  faces  at  a 
side  window  where  they  were  evidently  amused 
by  our  flurry.  They  shared  the  discomposure 
when  they  understood  the  rush  and  *•  no  dinner  ? 
— not  even  that  pheasant”  — but  we  just  made 
our  train  and  that  was  something.  In  fact  it  was 
all  the  comfort  we  had.  The  night  was  chill  any- 
way and  as  our  train  slowly  climbed  from  the  plain 
to  the  mountain  elevation  it  grew  positively  cold. 
We  had  only  light  wraps  and  our  empty  stomachs 
had  neither  external  nor  internal  warmth.  And 
those  foreign  railway  carriages  will  not  let  you 
go  to  sleep  and  forget  yourself.  “ Qiii  dort  dine," 
says  the  French  proverb,  but  even  that  form  of 
dining  was  unattainable. 

The  grade  was  sharp  and  our  engine  took  it  in  a 
leisurely  way  and  again  Bradshaw  was  wrong  for  it 
was  past  midnight  when  we  came  to  Salzburg.  I 
think  it  speaks  well  for  us  all  that  though  both 
cold  and  hungry  we  were  not  cross.  The  familiar 
phrases  about  “ making  camp  before  dark  ” and  “ ac- 
cidents in  travel  come  with  the  dark”  were  cot 


372 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


added  to  our  depression,  for  we  really  did  feel  de- 
pressed. Eighteen  hours  travel  on  the  morning  cof- 
fee and  some  bread  and  fruit  was  not  stimulating. 

However  all  was  obliterated  by  the  comfort  and 
beauty  of  our  rooms  with  the  cheerful  wood  fire 
and  supper.  Even  to  “ roast  pheasant.”  It  was 
the  season  for  the  (the  wild-hen)  which  is 

to  them  what  our  prairie  chicken  is  to  us.  Soothed 
aird  renewed  we  went  off  to  sleep  as  comforting  as 
our  food,  and  woke  to  begin  some  weeks  of  unal- 
loyed enjoyment  in  the  enchanting  Austrian-Tyrol. 


' ■ ' 


. i'. . I ’ ■ ,'  i ' ' ' '“  -ii 


n. 


« 


i>i.  i' 


EMPRESS  OF  AUSTRIA. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


SALZBURG. 

"Mein  lieber  land  Tyrol.' 

WHEN  we  met  next  day  for  the  mid-day 
breakfast  we  were  all  refreshed  and  gay 
and  already  feeling  the  sparkling  freshness  of  the 
mountains.  The  girls  had  their  report  to  make. 
They  had  been  to  the  Mozarts-platz,  where  the 
statue  and  fountain  in  the  square  and  the  tablet 
on  the  house  all  tell  of  Mozart’s  home  there ; but 
it  was  horses,  not  music,  that  had  led  them  to  that 
spot,  for  Anna  knew  of  a reliable  livery-man  there 
from  whom  her  father  and  herself  had  had  their 
mountain  outfit.  The  em-spamier  is  a very  com- 
fortable, strong,  two-seated  open  carriage  made  to 
open  or  close  at  will ; with  the  driver’s  seat  so 
low  in  front  that  you  see  over  his  head.  The 
wide  flat  box  behind,  which  corresponds  to  the 
373 


374 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


driver’s  seat,  carries  all  one  needs  for  a week  or 
so.  These  are  usually  driven  with  one  horse  and 
that  to  a pole,  giving  the  effect  of  an  accident  and 
the  carriage  being  taken  back  by  the  horse  that 
had  not  run  away.  Two  horses  are  not  absolutely 
needed  on  those  well-graded  beautifully  macad- 
amized roads,  and  to  spend  for  what  is  not  needed 
does  not  enter  the  Continental  mind.  We  were 
better  pleased  to  see  horses  both  sides  of  the 
pole,  and  the  girls  had  chosen  good  ones  that  met 
the  requirements  of  their  practised  eyes,  and  also 
selected  the  two  drivers  from  the  men  called  out 
for  inspection. 

This  important  matter  settled,  we  were  to  begin 
on  the  scenery  nearest  us. 

Anna  had  given  me  no  hint,  for  fear  I might 
tell,  but  I saw  suppressed  e.xcitement  and  eager- 
ness in  her  anxiety  that  we  should  go  at  an  early 
hour  next  morning  for  a drive,  and  we  were  all 
docility. 

The  town  of  Salzburg  is  so  different  from  any- 
thing of  modern  days,  even  in  Europe,  that  it  was 
a pleasure  just  to  idle  about  it  on  foot.  All  that 


SALZBURG. 


375 


was  not  actual  church  building  was  so  decorated 
with  religious  busts  and  bas-reliefs  that  it  seemed, 
as  it  is,  an  ecclesiastical  headquarters  with  the 
impress  of  past  days  of  power  of  the  Church ; and 
of  the  State  also.  The  mountains  rise  so  abruptly 
from  the  narrow  bed  of  the  rushing  river  which  is 
parallel  to  its  only  level  street,  that  the  other 
buildings  cling  to  the  steep  hill  sides,  and  the 
jutting  lower  spurs  are  crowned  with  huge  edifices, 
royal  or  ecclesiastical.  While  on  the  abrupt  height 
across  the  river,  where  its  mass  of  shadow  fell  on 
our  hotel  until  ten  o’clock,  was  an  old  fortress, 
a genuine  “ strong-place  ” of  the  Middle  Ages, 
rich  in  legends  and  in  facts. 

For  this  first  day  we  were  “ not  to  cross  the 
river;”  there  was  more  than  enough  to  keep  us 
interested  on  our  side.  The  vibration  from  sweet- 
toned  bells  is  nev'er  out  of  the  air  there.  The 
many  churches  and  religious  buildings  are  all 
the  time  ringing  bells,  and  the  equally  many  great 
clocks  strike  musical  hours,  giving  the  quarters, 
and  the  high  hills  send  back  their  echoes. 

We  went  forth  the  next  morning  quite  fresh  and 


376 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


fit  to  meet  the  majesty  of  the  mountains,  our  large 
comfortable  landau  wide-open  to  the  mild  autumn 
sun  and  inspiring  air.  The  mass  of  rocky  height 
on  which  is  the  fortification  lies  for  about  four 
miles  along  the  river.  Beyond  is  a level  rich 
valley,  and  much  other  good  farming  land.  The 
peasant  women,  used  to  accepting  life  with  ever)' 
hardship  they  found  in  it,  had  been  accustomed 
to  plod  around  this  long  spur  on  their  way  to 
market,  driving  their  donkeys  loaded  with  produce 
— they  walking.  You  will  remember  it  is  the 
women  who  do  the  most  of  the  field  work  where 
standing  armies  are  kept ; the  men  are  taken  for 
soldiers. 

When  the  Empress  Maria  Theresa  visited  Salz- 
burg she  noticed  this  long  way  round  which  the 
women  had  to  add  to  their  already  long  walk  to 
and  from  their  homes  in  and  beyond  the  valley. 
She  ordered  a tunnel  to  be  cut  through,  under 
the  fortress  and  where  it  would  lead  by  the  short- 
est way  from  the  valley  into  the  centre  of  the 
town.  This  was  the  thought  and  care  of  a beau- 
tiful woman,  a most  proud  empress,  for  peasant 


SALZBURG. 


377 


women,  a woman’s  care  for  other  women.  Through 
this  tunnel  we  drove  that  lovely  autumn  morning, 
I pleased  with  the  good  done  by  the  empi'ess,  Mr. 
Fremont  admiring  the  beauty  of  the  engineering 
work  and  its  costly  finish  of  wide  raised  sidewalks 
and  smoothly  lined  sides  and  arched  roof,  all  of 
us  turning  to  examine  the  great  bas-relief  carved 
over  its  entrance  on  which  the  morning  sun  shone 
fair;  something  allegorical,  intended  to  win  favor 
for  her  young  son ; that  son  to  whom  she  could 
leave  an  empire  but  could  not  transmit  her  brain 
and  will  — that  son  who  let  his  sister  Marie  An- 
toinette die  unsupported  by  royal  or  brotherly 
effort  to  save  her.  Flistory  will  show  you  that 
“ Happy  as  a Queen,”  is  a nursery  phrase  and 
belongs  with  the  age  when  “ Once  upon  a time” 
is  the  only  date  used. 

From  the  tunnel  we  came  out  into  the  rich  open 
valley  of  which  we  saw  only  the  floor,  so  to  speak, 
for  the  broad  road  was  bordered  by  double  rows 
of  venerable  trees  which  interlaced  overhead 
making  another  and  longer  winding  tunnel  of 
thick  green  leafage  ; but  between  the  great  boles 


378 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


of  the  trees  and  beyond  their  spreading  boughs 
we  caught  glimpses  of  a regiment  of  cavalry  at 
morning  exercise  on  the  green  plain.  That  was 
inspiriting.  The  bugle  calls,  the  swift  manceuvres, 
the  picturesque  uniforms,  all  made  beautiful  ac- 
companiments to  the  morning. 

Then,  as  we  emerged  from  this,  Anna  said, 
“ Now,  General,  shut  your  eyes,  do,  until  I speak.” 

She  was  paling  with  excitement,  and  well  she 
might. 

The  carriage  stopped  at  the  point  she  remem- 
bered, where  an  opening  in  the  high  hills  gave  a 
view  beyond  of  which  words  cannot  make  a pict- 
ure. Immediately  before  us  lay  two  lines  of  mag- 
nificent dark  mountains  curving  boldly  towards 
each  other ; closing  the  view  across  them  in  the 
distance,  rose  from  this  lower  framing  of  deep 
greens  and  purpling-blue,  something  I had  never 
seen  before,  a huge  glacier  — a shape  of  light  — so 
high,  so  glittering  it  was,  far,  far  up  in  the  morn- 
ing sunshine. 

Anna’s  voice  quivered  as  she  said,  “Now, 


General.” 


SAI-ZBURG. 


379 


There  come  some  exquisite  moments  in  life. 
Culminating  moments  that  make  complete  — full 
and  perfect  and  forever  remembered  as  the 
crowning  joy  — what  has  been  long  wished-for, 
dreamed-of. 

We  were  silent  and  quiet  there  a long  time. 

Anna’s  intended  pleasure  in  showing  the  snow 
mountains  of  South  Europe  to  Mr.  Frdmont  had 
been  a perfect  success.  He  was  dumb  with  satis- 
fied joy.  An  expression  I had  never  seen  in  them 
leaped  into  his  eyes  as  he  lifted  them  and  saw 
that  glory  of  the  snow  mountain  — they  knew  each 
other. 

Afterward,  we  noticed  that  when  we  did  turn 
away  the  little  we  had  said  was  in  lowered  voices, 
for  we  felt  it  would  be  intruding  on  the  thoughts 
thronging  in  upon  our  “Aw  des  Montagnes"  as 
Anna  named  him  ; like  Sir  Bedevere,  it  was  clear 
he  was 

Revolving  many  memories. 

It  was  no  surprise  that  an  early  start  was  asked  for 
the  next  day  ; and  in  our  warm  woollen  rig  we  were 
off  in  the  little  carriages,  as  good  as  a short  sofa 


380 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME, 


on  wheels,  and  that,  and  many  other  sunrises,  we 
saw  in  the  lieber  La7id  of  Tyrol.  And  many  a 
rushing  pale-green  brook  tumbling  down  its  rocks 
between  pines,  and  other  such  dearly  beloved  and 
remembered  mountain  sights  left  me  alone  in  the 
carriage,  for  the  stream  called  him  as  it  did  Un- 
dine, and  the  General  would  jump  out  and  walk 
by  it,  and  cross  on  its  rough  stones,  and  w’alk  up 
hills,  “to  spare  the  horses  ” — and  the  young  ones 
“ spared  the  horses  ” in  their  carriage  too,  and 
their  voices  would  come  back  as  fresh  and  sunny 
and  gay  as  the  morning  itself. 

And  what  appetites  this  gave ! And  what 
wonderful  delicate  food  met  us  at  village  inns 
where  the  landlady  was  the  convent-trained  skilful 
cook  and  the  landlady’s  daughter,  pretty  and 
gravely  important,  directed  the  ser\’ing-girls  under 
her ; who  curtsied  so  often  and  so  low  in  present- 
ing each  dish  that  it  made  me  dizzy  to  see  their 
heads  sink  and  rise  so  abruptly.  And  they  would 
be  in  such  picturesque  costume  ; the  clean  wh'.re 
plaited  chemisette  with  the  low  black  velvet 
bodice  — in  this  as  emblem  of  office  the  landlady’^ 


SALZBURG. 


38* 

daughter  wore,  as  one  puts  in  a flower  a little  to 
the  side,  a large  silver  spoon,  bowl  up,  together 
with  the  large  black  velvet  bag  (d  la  Marguerite) 
at  her  side  in  which  jingled  the  keys  ; this  marked 
authority  and  future  proprietorship. 

We  stopped  over  night  at  such  an  inn  in  the 
village  of  Werfen  ; just  a street  of  detached,  low, 
stone  houses,  but  with  a village  square  and  foun- 
tain where  the  women  gathered  before  sundown 
with  their  pitchers  and  gossipped  ; costumes,  foun- 
tain, gossips,  all  was  a scene  from  Faust.  High 
mountains  shut  in  the  narrow  line  of  village. 
On  a height  above  it  was  an  old  fortifled  castle, 
now  used  as  a military  prison.  The  others  walked 
up  there  — a ladder-like  climb  I was  not  up  to,  as 
I had  lamed  my  knee  in  Denmark  and  for  want  of 
rest  had  been  getting  seriously  lamed.  But  I 
looked  out  at  the  Faust  scene  and  the  sunset 
lights  on  the  mountains,  and  the  landlady  and 
myself  had  a talk  in  pantomime  all  to  ourselves. 
Their  German  has  become  a dialect  here,  and  my 
German  was  scant  anyway ; but  when  two  women 
want  to  talk  they  can  manage  with  eyes  and  hands 


382 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


and  oh’s  and  ah’s,  and  so  we  progressed,  I assent- 
ing to  all  she  proposed  for  dinner,  checking  off  on 
her  fingers  unknown  dishes,  to  which  I nodded 
approval  until  she  cried  “ enough.”  Then  she  led 
me  to  the  oak  presses  which  were  in  my  room 
and,  unlocking  them  with  pride,  displayed  her 
treasures  to  me.  She  had  reason  for  housewifely 
pride  in  them.  Piled  up  in  quantity  was  fine 
linen  for  bed  and  table.  Napkins  tied  in  dozens 
with  their  original  ribbons  — her  marriage  portion. 

Alein  mudder"  had  given  this  and  that.  She  led 
me  to  a window  looking  down  upon  the  crowded 
gravestones  of  the  church  adjoining  her  inn  — 
“ Mein  mudder  ” was  there ; touching  her  black 
head-dress  and  woollen  mourning  gown,  her  hus- 
band too ; it  was  bright  with  growing  flowers, 
dahlias  chiefly  then,  and  wreaths  on  the  crosses. 

But  she  smiled  again  when  she  displayed  her 
many  eider  down  puffy  quilts  of  bright-colored  silks 
and  satins,  and  taking  her  favorite  she  spread  it 
over  my  bed,  first  smiling  and  putting  its  clear  blue 
near  my  white  hair  to  show  it  would  be  becoming. 
Then,  inquiringly,  would  I choose  for  the  others? 


SALZBURG. 


383 


So  the  General  had  green  for  the  hills,  and  Frank 
his  gold  color,  while  as  I had  the  blue  the  girls 
had  to  take  pink  and  crimson.  It  was  charming 
to  feel  the  friendly  one-ness  of  hospitality  which 
was  quite  apart  from  the  relation  of  traveller  and 
hostess,  and  which  belonged  in  with  the  courtesy 
of  the  people  everywhere  in  Austria.  Her  best 
silver,  each  spoon  and  fork  wrapped  separately  in 
silver  paper,  she  also  took  out  from  this  range 
of  oak  presses  which  made  one  wall  of  a large 
room. 

When  the  others  came  back  they  found  the 
wood  fire  bright  in  the  open  part  of  the  huge 
white  porcelain  stove,  the  table  with  wax  lights 
in  twisted-branched  silver  candlesticks,  flowers 
(dahlias  from  the  graveyard,  and  geraniums  — I 
saw  the  daughter  cutting  these  funeral -grown 
flowers  for  the  feast),  and  in  their  rooms  more 
silver  candlesticks  on  lace-trimmed  toilet  tables, 
lighting  up  the  pretty  satin  quilts. 

And  such  a feast!  even  the  appetite  of  a 
boy,  increased  by  mountain  air  and  exercise, 
gave  out.  Each  thing  was  not  only  delightfully 


384 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


cooked,  but  served  in  the  most  artistic  manner, 
and  as  I had  said  “ yes  ” to  eveiything,  we 
water-drinkers  by  habit  were  confronted  with 
fine  old  claret,  and  such  golden  Tokay  that  it 
had  to  be  tasted. 

We  were  a party  of  five.  Always  on  the  conti- 
nent you  order — not  chicken  or  beef  or  potatoes, 
but  one  or  more  portions  of  each.  The  things 
Frank  was  fond  of  he  always  ordered  in  six  por- 
tions ; when  the  servant  would  ask  for  the  sixth 
person  as  we  seated  ourselves  there  was  always  a 
little  laugh  as  he  held  up  two  fingers  and  ex- 
plained he  was  both  “ five  ” and  “ six.”  This  time 
even  “ six  ” was  stalled.  The  landlady  came  up 
to  ask  if  we  had  been  satisfied,  and  with  German 
words  and  expressive  American  looks  and  tone, 
we  assured  her  it  was  all  delightful. 

Early  as  was  our  start  next  day  there  was  an 
equally  good  breakfast,  and  garlands  of  (mortuary) 
dahlias  all  around  the  hood  of  the  girls’  carriage, 
and  the  hand  bouquets  for  all  were  of  late  roses 
and  geraniums  tied  with  ribbons. 

And  all  this  for- an  amount  in  money  so  small 


SALZBURG. 


385 

by  comparison  that  to  us  it  seemed  an  unfair  re- 
turn. These  inns  are  family  property  and  the 
“ good-will  ” of  this  I should  count  as  quite  as  val- 
uable as  its  fine  appointments.  As  in  all  Southern 
countries  the  upper  rooms  are  the  best.  On  the 
ground  floor  is  the  great  kitchen  and  the  “ travel- 
lers’ room  ” where  all  enter  and  get  refreshment 
— according  to  the  purse  — but  no  matter  how 
little  is  spent  there  is  smiling  welcome.  Baedeker, 
who  is  the  German  Murray,  sends  his  son  to  make 
walking  tours  in  common  clothes  and  report  on 
the  reception  given  to  such  travellers,  which  they 
publish  in  their  guide-books  and  rarely  do  you  see 
any  word  of  dispraise. 

How  we  did  enjoy  that  time  in  the  mountains  ! 
At  first  consciously,  then  as  matter  of  course,  so 
thoroughly  had  the  complete  rest  entered  into  and 
renewed  us. 

It  was  not  “ always  afternoon  ” for  all  the 
women  we  saw.  Our  American  feelings  were 
sorely  tried  by  the  constant  sight  of  women  at 
work  in  the  fields  where  the  earth  was  prepared 

as  for  a flower  bed,  so  finely  was  the  soil  crum- 


386 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


bled  and  smoothed.  The  manure  cart  would  be 
in  charge  of  a boy  with  shoes  on  — he  was  to  grow 
into  a soldier  and  must  be  healthy ; the  women 
were  not  only  barefoot  but  barelegged,  for  their 
skirts  were  tucked  so  high  you  had  to  see  the  want 
of  stocking  or  undergear.  At  one  of  the  country 
churches  into  which  we  went  while  stopping  for 
breakfast  the  Madonna’s  Statue  had  a pair  of 
new  thick  brogans  on  the  feet,  and  tied  to  its  out- 
stretched hand  was  a square  of  coarse  but  well- 
bleached  linen  trimmed  round  with  knit  linen 
lace  ; evidently  a votive  offering  from  some  weary 
woman  to  whom  the  clean  handkerchief  and  dry- 
shod  feet  represented  a heavenly  rest. 

We  had  our  plan,  but  we  broke  it  as  often  as 
we  were  tempted  to  linger  by  a lovely  lake  or  a 
specially  beautiful  spot ; and  there  was  a glacier 
that  just  must  be  climbed.  The  stop  near  it 
for  the  night  was  not  enough.  A guide  was 
engaged  — “ the  best  of  our  mountaineers,  he  does 
not  go  up  with  ever}'one,  and  his  terms  are  high.” 
The  General  and  Frank  and  the  guide  went  up 
the  glacier,  and  we  spent  our  day  mostly  on  the 


SALZBURG. 


387 


lake,  and  lying  on  the  grass  watching  Anna  sketch- 
ing the  glacier,  and  trying  with  our  glasses  to 
make  out  three  figures  on  it.  They  came  back 
at  night  delighted.  The  landlady  carefully  bring- 
ing in  our  long  plaids  and  making  them  wrap  in 
them  after  the  day’s  violent  exercise  ; and  coming 
and  going,  on  hospitable  cares  intent  — bringing 
up  word  that  the  guide  said  that  was  no  “ traveller  ” 
he  was  a “ mountain-man  ” and  knew  a mountain 
as  welt  as  he  did  — and  the  boy  would  make  a 
climber  too.  And  he  was  going  to  buy  a cow  with 
the  present  given  him  (in  memory  of  many  a hard 
climb  in  snow  and  rocks  which  did  not  end  with 
home  faces  and  a good  dinner  and  bed.) 

For  my  tamed  knee  we  went  to  the  hot  salt 
baths  of  Ischl,  where  three  baths  removed  all  stiff- 
ness, nor  did  it  return.  This  is  the  great  place 
for  rheumatism,  always  the  mountaineer’s  scourge. 
/The  hot  salt  baths  are  sovereign  also  for  nervous 
ailing  women,  and  to  them  came  the  Empress  of 
Austria,  the  present  one,  when  she  was  in  such 
sorrow  that  her  health  broke  down  completely. 
She  is  a Hungarian ; the  Emperor  was  having 


388 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


rough  times  with  the  Hungarian  nobles  and  a 
visit  among  them  was  thought  desirable.  To 
make  sure  of  a welcome  it  was  held  necessary 
that  the  Empress,  of  whom  they  were  proud, 
should  go  too.  Her  first  child,  a baby  girl,  was 
cutting  its  teeth  and  not  well  and  she  refused  to 
leave  it.  But  she  was  persuaded  that  it  was  noth- 
ing but  passing  usual  fretfulness,  and  that  she 
could  do  so  much  for  the  Crown,  etc,,  etc.,  etc., 
that  she  went  with  the  Emperor  and  the  welcome 
was  given  and  danger  averted.  But  the  baby 
died  while  she  was  away. 

It  was  not  royal,  but  it  was  natural  that  she 
turned  from  State-life  in  horror.  She  kept  away 
from  Vienna  ; her  health  was  given  as  pretext  for 
her  eccentric  travel ; one  winter  she  stayed  on  the 
Island  of  Madeira.  But  she  came  back,  and  it  is 
said  a peasant  woman  begged  her  to  come  to 
Ischl  and  find  health  there.  And  health  did  come 
back  and  every  year  she  returns.  We  saw  her 
daily  on  horseback ; and  on  foot  walking  with  her 
big:  dog:  under  the  terrace-trees,  listening  to  the 
wild  music  of  the  Hungarian-gypsy  band ; gener- 


SALZBURG. 


389 


ally  in  a short  black  silk  skirt  and  white  corduroy 
jacket,  her  magnificent  long  hair  in  two  heavy 
plaits  crossed  behind  her  shoulders  and  the  ends 
tucked  in  in  front  as  I have  seen  the  Californian 
and  Mexican  women  wear  their  long  braids.  The 
Princess  Gisela,  about  sixteen  then,  had  her  daily 
walk  also  past  our  hotel  across  the  bridge  to  the 
more  open  country  beyond,  unattended  except  by 
her  governess  and  in  simple  plaid  woollen  suits 
and  brown  straw  hat. 

There  is  the  most  complete  simplicity  in  this 
most  aristocratic  of  courts  and  nobility,  when  at 
Ischl,  and  one  usage  charmed  me.  The  bridge 
under  our  windows  was  a thoroughfare  and  led 
directly  to  the  cemetery  on  a hill  across  the 
water. 

All  the  funerals  passed  over  it.  All  we  saw, 
of  the  well-dressed  and  rich  people,  or  the 
poorer  class,  were  conducted  in  the  same  way; 
choir-boys  led  the  way,  the  priest  following ; then 
the  coffin  borne  by  strong  men  ; then  the  family — 
all  w'alking.  The  priest  would  chant  a verse  of 
the  funeral  service,  all  in  the  procession  chanting 


39° 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


the  response,  and  so,  the  sound  fading  away  as 
they  moved  on,  the  funerals  would  go  by  between 
the  gay  hotel  and  the  terrace  always  full  of  prom- 
enaders.  But  what  interested  me  most  was  to  see 
these  people  of  ease  and  fashion  quietly,  and  as 
matter  of  course,  join  in  the  funeral  procession 
and  cross  the  bridge  with  it,  chanting  the  re- 
sponses— then  dropping  out,  return  to  their  own 
life. 

One  fine  looking  man  I saw  throw  away  his 
cigar  and  taking  by  the  hand  two  little  boys  they 
crossed  the  bridge  with  a funeral,  then  on  the 
return  father  and  boys  had  their  walk  under  the 
terrace  trees.  Asking  his  name,  I found  this  was 
Prince  Hohenloe  and  the  children  were  his.  It 
was  a Christian  recognition  of  the  one  inevit- 
able common  bond  and  always  interested  me 
anew. 

The  weeks  went  by  too  fast.  A large  landau 
and  four  fine  horses  managed  by  a postillion  with 
a cameo-profile,  a green  suit  and  a horn  slung 
round  him  on  which  he  waked  the  echoes  as  we 
dashed  through  villages,  made  our  abode  by  day ; 


SALZBURG. 


391 


the  long  drives  being  always  to  different  points. 
“ Hernani,”  as  we  christened  the  green-suited  horn- 
blowing handsome  postillion,  knew  every  place. 
At  one  village  Inn  he  stopped  “by  request,”  and 
and  the  landlord  and  “ a committee  ” were  waiting 
to  speak  with  us.  They  wished  to  say  to  the  Amer- 
ican General  that  they  had  faith  in  America  and  had 
invested  during  our  war  in  American  greenbacks 
(it  was  a village  of  some  twelve  hundred  people 
and  Protestant)  ; that  there  was  much  said  against 
their  trusting  our  Government  and  there  came  a 
time  when  printed  news  came  to  them  that  our 
election  for  President  was  going  to  undo  the 
promise  to  pay  in  gold ; that  they  talked  it  over 
and  decided  to  write  and  inform  themselves  from 
the  highest  authority,  and  that  they  wrote  to  the 
“ Minister  of  Finance  ” and  by  return  mail  his 
answer  came  to  them.  The  letter  was  framed 
and  preserved  in  their  town  records  as  evidence 
of  the  superiority  of  Republican  institutions. 
“ When,”  they  said,  “ when  could  we,  villagers, 
and  of  the  people,  write  directly  to  our  Minister  of 
Finance,  or  receive  the  immediate  answer.” 


392 


SOUVENIRS  OF  MY  TIME. 


This  answer  was  that  the  election  was  not  yet 
decided,  but  that  the  success  of  the  Republican 
candidate,  General  Grant,  was  almost  assured. 
That  with  him  the  honor  of  the  nation  was  safe. 
And  the  signature  was  “ Hugh  McCulloch,  Sec- 
retary of  the  Treasury." 

You  may  be  sure  the  swell  of  pride  in  our  coun- 
try was  great,  and  that  was  a very  sunshiny  day. 

But  they  had  to  come  to  their  close. 

After  I was  back  at  home  on  the  Hudson  I had 
a large  foreign  parcel  come  to  me ; an  album 
made  for  me  by  Anna  of  her  own  beautiful  water- 
color  sketches  of  the  places  I had  liked  best  on 
“The  Happy  Journey”  as  she  named  it.  There 
are  the  red  sails  of  the  fishing  boats  on  the  blue 
Baltic  as  we  had  watched  them  from  the  terrace 
of  her  countiy'-house  near  Copenhagen  while 
Hans  Andersen  read  us  his  “ Tale  of  a Thistle  ; ” 
the  rich  stained-glass  oriel  window  of  the  Bishop’s 
palace  at  Prague ; the  two  ein-spanners  with  their 
muffled  occupants  in  the  low  foreground  and 
mountains  on  mountains  filling  the  background  — 
lovely  views  everywhere.  We  had  named  the 


SALZBURG. 


393 


railway  carriage  “ the  family  hearth  ” for  it  was 
only  when  shut  in  it  for  the  day’s  travel  that  we 
had  full  leisure  for  talking  over  what  we  had  seen 
and  talking  up  what  we  were  to  see.  At  Dresden 
we  had  uniformed  ourselves  in  long  wraps  of  soft 
Saxony-wool  plaid  of  blue  and  green,  with  hats 
of  peacocks’  breasts  to  match;  the  General  and 
Frank  having  each  a bit  of  peacock’s  breast  in 
the  band  of  their  gray  soft  hats,  and  cravats  of 
green  and  blue  plaid  with  their  gray  travelling 
suits.  When  we  looked  around  for  one  another 
in  the  crowds  at  the  stations  the  guards  would 
smile  and  touch  the  side  of  their  own  hats  as  they 
pointed  out  the  gray  hats  with  the  bit  of  peacock 
breast.  We  regretted  our  change  to  usual  bonnets 
and  gowns  with  which  to  arrive  in  Paris,  but  as 
we  ran  in  to  the  Gare  St.  Lazai-e  and  the  General 
came  forward  to  meet  us,  Anna  shut  her  eyes  with 
a little  cry  of  regret.  The  becoming  soft  gray  hat 
was  replaced  by  “the  iron-crown  of  civilization,” 
the  high  hat,  and  the  closing  picture  in  the  book  is 
his  photograph  on  which  she  had  placed  this  mark 
that  the  good  mountain  days  were  ended. 


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917.3  F872  282075 


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